


The Divide

by AtowncalledMalec



Series: Fallen [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, malec - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Alec Lightwood, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Angel Alec Lightwood, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cursed, Demon Magnus Bane, F/F, F/M, Fallen, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of minor background characters, Omega Magnus Bane, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Sort Of, Soulmates, The Fall Part 2, True Mates, Wingfic, background clace, background sizzy, immortal malec, reset, sequel to the fall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-11-14 08:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 68,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18049283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtowncalledMalec/pseuds/AtowncalledMalec
Summary: Ripped away from the lives that they knew, Alec and Magnus, along with their friends and family, must face an eternity apart, cursed to forget each other and the love that they had found. They must find a way to fight their inevitable punishment, to break the curse so that they can be together, the problem is, how do you do that when you can't remember that you are being punished in the first place? Luckily for them, they have one very determined daughter.





	1. 1607

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks, I'm back! First of all, thank you for joining me again and thank you for the phenomenal response to The Fall! If you are just picking this one up and haven't read The Fall yet, click on the series link under the tags and go and read it. This one won't really make much sense if you haven't read the first one
> 
> So you may have noticed the Reincarnation tag. While not completely accurate, this was the closest tag I could think of to use. You will see why when you get to the end of the first chapter.
> 
> Also, I learned how to embed pictures into my fics so if you don't follow me on Twitter, Tumblr or Instagram, you can see the cover that I created for this and for my other fics. I'll be adding the covers that I've made for them to each fic. If you would like to follow me on any of those, it's @AtowncaledMalec on Twitter and @AtowncalledMalec on everything else, come and say hi, I follow back.
> 
> Also, if you want updates on Twitter, the hashtag for this one is #DivideFic 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

 

**_Idris_ **

  
  


Alec Lightwood woke with the dawn, as was his usual custom. Sitting up, he scrubbed his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, as if doing it hard enough would make him remember the dream he had been having. A low, Alpha growl rumbled through him from the constant frustration of never remembering his dreams.

 

_ Clouds… clouds? _

 

The dream slipped away. 

 

Unsure of why he would be dreaming about clouds, Alec stood with a groan, stretching his aching body. Barely thinking about what he was doing, so used to doing it every morning, he snatched up his stele from the table next to his bed and activated his Iratze before shuffling off to get a wash. No matter how he slept, he always woke up aching, especially in his shoulders.

 

_ Damn training, it’s going to finish me off one day. _ The thought ran through Alec’s mind as he washed himself down, his fingers pausing, as they always did, on the tip of the scar on his right shoulder blade. 

 

Knowing that it would be the same again today, more training, Alec shrugged a jerkin, some leggings and his best pair of sturdy boots on and grabbed his stele off of his bed. Making his way through his home, he went to find his siblings.

 

_ Home, what a joke, the Gard has never felt like home.  _

 

Alec’s usual frown was plastered over his face when he found Jace and Izzy in the dining hall, his brother flat out refusing to eat the oat mash that Izzy was picking at. Giving the other Alpha and the Omega his best imitation of a smile, he joined them, eyeing the oat mash warily.

 

“Who cooked?” Alec asked as he took a seat at the table and helped himself to a glass of water, already knowing the answer. Jace wouldn’t look so green if it had been him. Eyeing Izzy’s choice of attire, he chose not to comment on the loose fitting jerkin and leggings she was wearing. Jonathan Shadowhunter himself couldn’t wrestle her into a gown during training.

 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it cooking,” Jace said, glaring at the bowl of tragedy Izzy was slowly working her way through. Taking his stele out of his pocket, he activated his stamina rune, needing all of the help he could get for training.

 

“Did you manage to get much sleep last night?” Alec asked, watching Jace activate his rune. Thinking it was a good idea, he followed suit, swiping his stele over his stamina rune.

 

“A few hours,” Jace shrugged. Climbing to his feet, he scooped up the slice of bread and butter, that he had been eating when Alec had joined them, from the table as he waited for Izzy to give up on the bowl of crap she was eating. It didn’t take long. “More than Izzy by the sounds of it,” he said before stuffing his breakfast down. 

 

“Dreams,” Izzy shrugged, giving up on her breakfast.  _ It tastes like dirt anyway with no fruit of honey to go in it.  _ Confusion tugged her eyebrows down as she stared into the half-full bowl, they had plenty of fruit in the Gard kitchens but never honey. Shrugging it off, she quickly rinsed her bowl off before activating a couple of her own runes as she followed Jace and Alec from the dining hall.

 

Alec side-eyed his brother as they made their way to the training hall, ignoring his fellow Shadowhunters, as they passed them, to look Jace over as inconspicuously as possible. Jace and Izzy always had the same look to them; empty, bored, lonely, tired, confused half of the time. He also knew that it was the same look he wore more often than not.

 

_ No wonder, our lives are boring _ , Alec mused. It was the same thing every day and had been since he could remember; wake up after a fitful few hours of sleep, eat, train all morning, patrol the walls and surrounding areas of the fortress all afternoon, sleep for a few more hours, repeat. There was no deviation, no excitement, nothing to keep them from fading into obscurity. 

 

“Do you ever feel like we are just surviving from one mission to the next?” Izzy asked as she stretched her aching shoulders, unknowingly parroting her brother's thoughts when they entered the training hall. If she had to describe her life, the words she would probably use would be hollow, boring, directionless.  _ Static.  _

 

“It’s this place, it sucks the life out of you,” Jace said, looking around at the drab grey walls of the training hall. There were already a few Shadowhunters, squaring off against one another in the huge room. It was the liveliest that any of the other people that shared their home ever got. “At least on missions we get out for a bit, even if they are few and far between, ” he said, making his way over to the weapons racks.

 

Alec followed, silently agreeing as he selected a pair of Seraph blades when he saw his siblings each grab a set of blades, Jace a matching pair of Kinjal’s, Izzy a set of Sais. It was a game they played when they trained, one opponent selects two longer weapons the other two picking shorter weapons. 

 

“Sais?” Alec asked Izzy, seeing a spark of defiance flit through her eyes. “Could you have picked a pair of blades with a shorter reach? The whole point is to try and disarm me, what are you going to do with them?” he asked, rolling his shoulders to work out the aches. 

 

“You just worry about your weapons and leave me to mine,” Izzy said with a grin, spinning the Sais in her hands until the pommels sat in her palms and the thin, spiked blades lay along the lengths of her forearms.

 

“They aren’t weapons, they are toothpicks,” Alec said, a chuckle bursting out of him when Izzy’s eyes narrowed. The sound had a few people looking around, it wasn’t often heard in the halls of the Gard, even if there were close to twenty people living in the large fortress.

 

“I’ll pick more than your teeth with them,” Izzy said, launching herself at her brother without another word, a feral grin spreading over her face when Alec immediately went on the defensive.

 

Alec barely raised his sword in time, lifting it in an underhand arch as Izzy spun the blades once more and stabbed out at him. Eyeing the two shorter outer prongs that now guarded Izzy’s hands against his own blade, he raised his second blade just in time to defend against Jace’s sneak attack. 

 

Backing away from both of them, Alec had to use both swords at once, defending against both pairs of weapons as Izzy went with a stabbing attack at his chest and Jace swung both Kinjal’s low, aiming for his knees.

 

“What were you saying about my Sais?” Izzy grinned when she hooked the handguard around the blade of Alec’s sword and hooked it straight out of his hand, Alec’s blade clattering to the floor. The two short blades were some of her favourite weapons, something that was light, an extension of her arms, allowing for an effective weapon that she could punch or stab with. And she knew how to use them.

 

Alec didn’t have time to glare at the offending Sais before Jace brought one of his Kinjal’s down on top of his one remaining blade and hooked the other Kinjal underneath. One twist of Jace’s arms had his second sword flipping out of his hand.

 

“She disarmed you with three moves, I did it in four,” Jace taunted, grabbing Alec’s arm and spinning him on the spot. Bringing his left sword up, he slapped the flat of the blade across Alec’s ass and brought the hilt of his right sword down in the middle of Alec’s back when Alec arched away from it.

 

“Motherfucker!” Alec growled as pain ricocheted through his back and out through his shoulders. The few hours of restless sleep he had gotten was showing, it had been a while since they had disarmed him so quickly, with as few moves as they had.

 

“Are you okay?” Jace asked, putting his swords up for a moment when Alec flexed his shoulders once more before moving to retrieve his Seraph blades. “You aren’t usually this slow,” he said, watching his brother.

 

“Just an ache, it’s nothing,” Alec muttered, raising his Seraph blades once more as determination shot through him. Knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it if they got the jump on him again, he planted his feet wide and bent his knees, waiting for them to come at him.

 

“What do you think they are from, the scars?” Izzy asked, spinning her Sais to lay the blades against her arms once more. They all had the scars and they all had the aches from them. Alec could pretend to be fine all he wanted, she knew better.

 

“They are from… from… We must have gotten them…” Alec trailed off, his head aching.  _ From a mission.  _ His brain supplied.

 

“We got them from a mission,” Jace shrugged, shrugging the question off as it trickled from his mind. It wasn’t important, the scars were there and that was all there was to it.

 

“All of us? Every Shadowhunter? You’ve seen them on the others too,” Izzy asked, rubbing at her temple and the headache that was trying to start. Even as she asked the question, it started to slip from her mind. It obviously wasn’t important.

 

“We’ve always had them,” Alec shrugged. They had had the scars for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t quite sure how long that was but he couldn’t remember not having them.

 

“Are you ready for us to whoop your ass again?” Jace asked with a grin, raising his Kinjal’s when Alec raised his Seraph blades and Izzy raised her Sais. The questions weren’t important, training was what mattered.

 

**

 

**_Singapore._ **

 

Magnus Bane looked up from the cup of sleeping potion he had made to try and combat the dreams that plagued him, so he could try and get a decent night’s sleep, snapped out of his reverie when a fire message lit up the air before him. Reaching up, he snatched it out of the air and read through the short note, his eyes narrowing at the words written there;

 

**_Your presence is requested by the High Warlock immediately_ **

 

“Your presence is requested by the High Warlock immediately,” Magnus mimicked the message, a little childishly, in a perfect imitation of Lorenzo Rey’s voice; whiny, nasally, insufferably pompous. 

 

Magnus had a good mind to ignore the message, sundown had already come and gone hours ago. And as far as he was concerned, talking about yourself in the third person was a ridiculous practice.  _ Why not just say “I need your help”?  _ He thought with an eye roll.

 

Knowing that another and then another would follow this message if he ignored it, Magnus sent his cup away with a wave of his hand and hauled himself out of his bed. A snap of his fingers had him redressed in his favourite deep green breeches, patterned gold and green doublet and his brand new knee-high brown leather boots.

 

_ Might as well look good while I’m doing his dirty work! _

 

Fixing his makeup and the long hair that he had grown out in the latest fashionable style, and adding a green wide-brimmed hat to complete his look, Magnus waved his arm and created a portal, leaving his home behind and heading for Madrid when he stepped through it.

 

Right into Clary Fray.

 

“Clary, my dear, you’re a vision. Look at that neckline!” Magnus said, opening his arms wide for his friend, approving her choice of deep green, voluminous silk gown with a scandalously low, rounded neckline, showing off plenty of bosom and her beautiful red curls, piled atop her head. He didn’t miss how tired she looked, knowing that she too was plagued by dreams that she could never remember.

 

“I’m taking advantage of changing fashion,” Clary said as she kissed Magnus’ cheeks, thankful that she didn’t have to parade around in a ruff anymore. Even if she could barely breathe from the corset that felt like the bane of her existence.

 

“What are you doing here?” Magnus asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips when Clary rolled her green eyes.  _ I miss the red,  _ flitted through his mind, tugging his eyebrows down, unsure of where the thought had even come from. They always wore their glamours, she didn’t leave it off long enough for him to have gotten used to her Warlock mark.

 

“I was summoned,” Clary said, happily accepting the arm Magnus held out for her as she glared around at the hallway of Lorenzo’s ostentatious palace, eyeing the ridiculous amount of gold and musty old oil paintings that Lorenzo decorated with. 

 

“Oh Magnus, how I’ve missed you. I’m so lonely in boring old Kent. The English are obsessed with finding me a man to settle down and raise babies with. Mundanes would never understand that it is different for Warlocks, that we take mates and not husbands,” Clary said as they meandered down the hallway, neither of them in a hurry.  _ Not that I can even tell them I’m a Warlock.  _ She wasn’t in the mood to be burned at the stake by her neighbours.

 

“Why do they think every woman should be married off as soon as she is old enough to call herself such?” Magnus said, rolling his own eyes. If his friend didn’t want a mate, she didn’t have to have one. He knew the feeling. Of course, he was lonely, unbearably so, but the thought of taking a mate turned his stomach, turned all of their stomachs.

 

“Didn’t you know that a woman needs a man? I couldn’t possibly survive on my own, not when there are perfectly good men out there to keep me,” Clary muttered in her best stuffy English accent as she rolled her aching shoulders. 

 

The telltale sound of a portal opening behind them had them both turning on the spot to see that they weren’t the only ones who had been summoned.

 

“Simon, must you always wear brown?” Magnus sighed when he saw who had emerged from the portal, his eyes raking over the other third of their trio, at the brown breeches, doublet and boots Simon was wearing. Simon had also grown his hair out, it suited him.

 

“Nobody told me we were wearing green,” Simon retorted, trying to shake off the sense of deja vu that had taken a hold of him as he strode forward, eyeing his friends matching outfits.

 

“How is Venice?” Clary asked, pulling Simon in tight and kissing his cheeks, slightly giddy from seeing her two best friends. They had been friends for as long as she could remember, even if she couldn’t remember how long that was. Being separated from them, each tasked with watching over a different Shadowhunter Institute, was hard. And lonely.

 

“Boring, you should both come and visit more,” Simon said, pulling Magnus into a back-slapping hug when he released Clary, seeing his own tiredness mirrored on their faces. “Sorry,” he mumbled when he saw Magnus wince, understanding where the wince had come from, his own shoulders hurt whenever someone hugged him like that.

 

“It’s fine. We would visit more often but that would mean abandoning our posts and we couldn’t do that, could we? What if the dreaded Shadowhunters dare to step out of line?” Magnus said, pressing his hand to his chest at the very thought, smiling when his friends laughed. The laughter stopped when the baroque double doors at the end of the hallway opened. 

 

“I’m glad to see we are all having fun,” Lorenzo said, glaring at the three Warlocks that were taking their sweet time in arriving. “Did we miss the part where I said your presence was requested immediately?” he asked, turning on his heel and beckoning for them to follow him without waiting for an answer.

 

“Arrogant asshole, I was just about to go to bed when he summoned me, now I find myself in Madrid in the middle of the afternoon,” Magnus muttered, exchanging eye rolls with his friends but following after Lorenzo, along with Clary and Simon. 

 

The sooner they found out what he wanted, the sooner they could return to their boring, sad, lonely lives. 

 

_ I’m positively jumping for joy at the prospect! At least whatever he wants might tire me out enough for me to sleep.  _ Magnus thought, glaring at the afternoon sun that poured through the throne room windows.

 

“You summoned us?” Clary asked without preamble as her gaze swept over the throne room that Lorenzo insisted wasn’t one. The High Warlock could call it what he wanted, it was still a room with one chair on a raised platform and Lorenzo still sat himself down in that chair to lord it up over them.

 

“I have a mission that requires the three of you,” Lorenzo said when he had made himself comfortable. Looking down at each of them, he decided to just lay it on them. “The Shadowhunters have something that I want, something that I need. The three of you will retrieve it for me.”

 

“Where is it?” Simon asked, dropping his glamour in surprise, noting that Clary and Magnus were just as surprised as he was, even if they kept better control over themselves. “What is it?” he added, realising that Lorenzo hadn’t told them what he wanted.

 

“It is a book. A very valuable book. And it is in their fortress,” Lorenzo said, still weighing the risks against the pay off if any one of them was successful. As far as he was concerned, it was worth the risk.

 

“You want us to risk our necks sneaking into the Gard, for a book?” Magnus asked, incredulity lacing his tone as he stared up at Lorenzo.  _ He has completely lost his mind!  _ “They will decimate us with numbers alone!” he said, his own glamour dropping away as anger rolled through him.

 

“That is why I am sending three of you. Safety in numbers,” Lorenzo said, raising an eyebrow at Magnus. “It is imperative that I have that book.”

 

“Then why don’t you go and get it yourself?” Magnus asked, narrowing his eyes at Lorenzo.  _ Safety in numbers my ass, a higher chance at success more like. _

 

“Because I am too busy. I have eighty Warlocks to take care of,” Lorenzo said, his own eyes narrowing.  _ Bane is the perfect name for him!  _

 

“Of course, what would we do without you?” Magnus drawled.  _ Wouldn’t want you risking your neck facing the Shadowhunters when you could hole yourself up behind your wards and treat us like your own personal army! Fucking coward.  _ Lorenzo risking their necks instead of his own was nothing new, funnily enough, that was always his excuse when any confrontation with the Shadowhunters cropped up. He was pretty sure Lorenzo had never faced off against a Shadowhunter in his life.

 

“The risk is too great,” Simon said, placing his hand gently on Magnus’ shoulder when a growl built in the back of his friend's throat. Lorenzo might be a coward but he was a powerful Warlock nonetheless. Not magically, Magnus’ magic was stronger but Magnus didn’t have eighty Warlocks at his disposal, only two. 

 

“That is not for you to decide,” Lorenzo said, ignoring the Alpha growl that erupted from Simon, meeting the sound with one of his own.

 

“And if we refuse?” Simon growled, shaking Clary’s hand off when it landed on his arm. He wasn’t prepared to just blindly walk into danger for the sake of a damned book and he wasn’t letting his friends face the danger either, no matter how many Warlocks Lorenzo had at his back.

 

“What do you think the Shadowhunters will do to a rogue Warlock?” Lorenzo asked, fighting the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips to continue. “Do you think they wouldn’t take the chance of getting rid of any of you if they found out that we had turned our backs on you? They would come for you faster than you could blink. As I said, safety in numbers.”

 

“What is so important about this book?” Clary asked, glaring at the High Warlock, his threat implicit in the words he had spoken, not only would they face the Shadowhunters but the Warlocks too. It wasn’t the first time he had used the threat against them.

 

“It is too dangerous for them to possess. It is full of instructions for new runes. Did you know that they can create portals now? If the book stays in Jonathan Shadowhunter’s possession, the rest of them will have powers that rival ours. They are strong enough already,” Lorenzo said, looking into each set of unglamoured eyes that stared back at him. 

 

“What does the book look like, where exactly is it, and how are we supposed to get in without them noticing us?” Clary asked with a resigned sigh, shaking her head at Simon and Magnus when they turned on her.

 

“It is called the Grey Book, the title is pretty self-explanatory. Jonathan will probably have it close by so you will have to find his quarters or library. And as for getting in, you can use glamours. Glamour yourselves as Shadowhunters and walk right in there,” Lorenzo said.

 

“Walk right in there, easy,” Simon muttered, staring at Lorenzo.  _ He is fucking insane! Just stroll in the front door! The Shadowhunters are so stupid, they will just let you walk in and take their book. _

 

“This is where you will portal to, you can make your way on foot from there, it isn’t far,” Lorenzo said as he snapped his fingers, casting a spell to show them an image of a lake, surrounded by mountains and forests. “This is just outside of Alicante, it is safer than trying to portal right into the Gard, less chance of landing on top of one of the Shadowhunters.” 

 

Magnus physically jerked as he stared at the image that Lorenzo showed them, almost going dizzy. Something about the place called to him, somewhere deep down inside of him, a place that he wasn’t even aware of. He wasn’t the only one to react, Simon was gaping at the image, Clary staring at it, deep confusion etched into her face.

 

“Try not to take any unnecessary risks,” Lorenzo said, talking specifically to Clary. The name Fray hadn’t come about by accident, she was all too willing to throw herself into the middle of the fray without thinking first and drag her friends along with her.

 

Magnus opened a portal when Lorenzo dismissed them, his hand visibly shaking. The image that Lorenzo had shown them had shaken him up. Fixing the image in his head, he took hold of Clary and Simon’s hands and led them through it.

 

Magnus’ eyes widened when they stepped through his portal, turning on the spot to take in the entire area. “Have we been here before?” he asked, taking in the lake and mountains, the forest that surrounded them. 

 

“It’s like deja vu,” Clary said, staring at the lake, her head aching from trying to remember where she had seen it before. “It’s not the same,” she said, not entirely sure of what it was supposed to be the same as.

 

“The same as what?” Magnus asked, scrubbing his hands over his temples, trying to fight through the ache in his head to remember, to try and think why the scene that surrounded them would feel so familiar or why just looking at the lake made his gut ache.

 

“That isn’t familiar,” Simon said, fighting against the nausea-inducing deja vu that had reared up for the second time that day, aside, along with the longing that the place had brought up. “I think we have found the Gard,” he said, nodding in the direction of a fortress between two of the mountains.

 

Magnus ripped his gaze away from the lake to look in the direction Simon was nodding. Seeing a huge fortress, surrounded by spires, all lit up bright, glowing red, he had to agree. It was the closest any of them had ever gotten to Idris, never mind the fortress of Alicante.

 

“Maybe if we survive this suicide mission, Lorenzo will rethink out positions and we can spend more time together. I’m sick of spying on the Shadowhunters,” Clary suggested, staring up at the bright red towers of the Gard in the distance.

 

“Come on, let's get this over with,” Magnus said, focusing his magic to glamour himself as a Shadowhunter. Opening his eyes, they widened for one moment before narrowing, seeing the glamours his friends had produced. 

 

“Never figured you for a blonde, Simon,” Magnus said, eyeing Simon’s glamour, his stomach constricting slightly as he took in the blonde hair and blue and brown eyes. Clary’s glamour, long, thick brown hair and dark chocolate eyes made his gut ache just as much. He shook his head, it was all too confusing. 

 

Simon shrugged, he had picked the first image that came to mind. Turning to look at Clary’s glamour, his heart almost took off, unable to stop staring at her. She looked beautiful.

 

“Simon, you look… you look…” Clary was speechless, gaping at Simon, he looked beautiful. Magnus’ dark hair and hazel eyes were pretty but Simon’s mismatched eyes called to her soul.

 

“If you two are going to declare your undying love for each other and start kissing, can it wait until after we have the book?” Magnus asked, chuckling at his joke. His friends looked like they were about to fall at each other’s feet. 

 

Turning his back on them, Magnus meandered over to the shore of the lake to inspect his own glamour.  _ Maybe I’ll declare my undying love for myself,  _ he thought as he stared down into the still waters of the lake. The reflection was almost dizzying in its perfection, something that had just popped into his mind.

 

“Come on lovebirds, let's go,” Magnus said, ripping his eyes away from the image, even if he wanted to sit and look at it all day, to turn to his friends. They had inched closer to each other, both unable to look away. The black runes that he could see on the limited exposed skin that they showed didn’t look right but he supposed they would pass muster.

 

“Coming,” Clary said, tearing her eyes away from Simon. She had to reach out and grab his hand as a wave of dizziness flooded her, letting Simon guide her to follow Magnus. None of them was exactly steady on their feet.

 

**

 

Izzy finally managed to settle the last layer of silk over the thousand other layers she was expected to wear when not training, half wishing that she had been born a male so that she could wear something comfortable and half conceding that she looked good when she caught her reflection. 

 

The silk gown was ridiculous, surely designed by men to cater to their tastes, no matter how tight the corsets were or how uncomfortable they were for the women who had to wear them. It did give her an amazing cleavage though. Wrapping her whips around her arms, over the long silk sleeves, her eyes almost rolled across the floor of her room when there was another knock at the door.

 

“Don’t start, you would always be late too if you had to wear this stupid dress,” Izzy said when she yanked her door open to find her brothers waiting for her. Glaring at their black leather doublets and stupid, comfortable looking breeches and riding boots, she grabbed her thick leather coat from its hook next to the door and marched past them, leading the way to the stables.

 

“That stupid dress that you have thirty different versions of?” Jace asked when Izzy shrugged her floor-length black coat on, following in his sister’s wake, grinning when he saw a grin tugging at the corners of Alec’s lips. The social expectations placed on women made him glad to be a man, Izzy's dress, while looking lovely, did not look comfortable!

 

Alec let a small laugh burst from him when Izzy glared at them over her shoulder before continuing down the hallway. Following her, he elbowed Jace in the ribs, shaking his head when he saw another retort on his brother’s lips. It was never a good idea to poke their sister when she was in one of these moods.

 

Izzy stopped short of the stable doors when Jonathan Shadowhunter walked through them, doing the silver filigreed clasps of her coat up to sinch it in at her waist, and adjusting the high collar. 

 

“Miss Lightwood, you are late for patrol, as are the two of you,” Jonathan said, reversing his direction now that the Lightwood siblings had arrived, to reenter the stables. “I want the three of you to patrol outside the east wall for the rest of the day, or what is left of it,” he said, eying the afternoon sun, already hanging low in the sky.

 

“I apologise if it took me too long to get ready. If I was able to wear clothing that didn’t take so long to put on, I would be on time more often,” Izzy growled, stalking passed Jonathan to saddle her horse, a beautiful black mare that she called Simona. Pressing a kiss Simona’s warm nose, she ignored the side saddle that the stable boy, a young Shadowhunter in training, tried to hand her and selected a regular saddle.

 

Alec shrugged as he too passed Jonathan, closely followed by Jace. Taking his saddle and bridle from the tack room, he barely paid attention to Jonathan’s orders as he saddled his horse, a black stallion called Magnum. Something about the horse always soothed him, even if Magnum was as spirited as his sister. Jace’s horse, Carrie, also a black mare, was wild.

 

“Jonathan? When do we get to go to an Institute?” Izzy asked when Jonathan finished giving his orders, as she secured the last straps in place and adjusted the stirrups. It was the same question she had asked him, time and time again, always receiving the same answer.

 

“You aren’t ready to go to an Institute, you can barely arrive for patrol on time,” Jonathan said, extending the sentiment to Alec and Jace when they both looked around. “You will all be allocated an Institute when it is your time and not before. Now, you are already late and the walls won’t protect themselves,” he said, giving them all a nod before leaving them to get going.

 

“Why does he feel the need to give us the same orders every day? “ _ Patrol outside the east wall, don’t venture any further, stay together”  _ as if we don’t do the same thing every day,” Jace muttered when Jonathan left, placing his foot in the stirrup to pull himself up onto Carrie’s back.

 

“Because he thinks we’re simpletons?” Izzy said, ignoring her stirrups and bending her knees to launch herself up onto Simona’s back. The move had her gown billowing out, allowing her to sit comfortably in the saddle, when she landed, with her skirts settled around her hips. She didn’t give a fuck how unladylike she looked, the side saddle was a waste of time.

 

Alec launched himself onto Magnum and followed his siblings from the stables, tugging at the reigns to get his horse heading in the right direction. In his opinion, they were more than ready to leave the Gard. They were a well trained, cohesive unit. And they were bored.

 

“What do you think life is like outside of these walls?” Izzy asked, leading the way across the courtyard and out through the gates, happy to let Simona pick her gait, a walk. 

 

“We are outside the walls,” Alec said, staring pointedly around as he walked Magnum down the main thoroughfare to the cobbled path that surrounded the walls of the Gard. 

 

“You know what I mean. What do you think Shadowhunters do out there?” Izzy asked, rolling her eyes. “Surely their lives aren’t as boring and unfulfilling as ours,” she said, following the wide path that hugged the east wall. They were all chafing to get out into the world, having lived at the Gard since… forever it felt like.

 

“They probably chase Warlocks all day,” Jace said, bringing Carrie up alongside Simona to walk next to his sister. While there were only twenty or so Shadowhunters living at the Gard, there were Institutions dotted around the world with others of their kind living in them, at least another sixty of them.  _ They probably live much more exciting lives than we do. _

 

“At least that’s something to do, we are wasting away here,” Izzy said. She was sure, down to the tips of her toes that there was more to life than training and patrol, positive that she was destined for more than rotting away behind the walls of the Gard.

 

“I wonder if Jonathan will consider opening a new Institute in Virginia, the new landmass doesn't have one yet. We could ask to be sent there if he does,” Jace said, thinking of the new land across the ocean that the English had just colonised. “What do you think, Alec? It could be fun to explore a new land.”

 

“Maybe. I just don’t understand what the big secret is,” Alec said when Jace looked over his shoulder, pondering the mystery of the Institutions. They were always fobbed off whenever they, or any of the other Shadowhunters that they lived with, asked. 

 

“Do you think we could get the horses to walk through a portal? As much as I’d love to get out of here, I couldn’t bear to leave her behind, I need her,” Izzy said, running her hands up and down Simona’s neck. Simona was her only real joy in life, as loyal and loving as they came.

 

“Carrie would dive through it head first without a moment's hesitation and Magnum probably would too but Simona is too laid back. She...” Alec cut off when the towers lit up red. 

 

“Warlocks. We have to go back and defend the gates,” Alec said when Izzy and Jace’s heads whipped up to look at the towers, high above them, announcing the arrival of an enemy.

 

Reigning his horse in, Alec shifted his weight and turned Magnum around. Setting his heels to his flanks, he urged Magnum into a fast trot. Laying the reigns across his thighs, he unslung his bow, using his knees and the trust he had in his horse to steer him in the right direction.

 

It didn’t take Izzy or Jace a minute to catch up to Alec’s thinking, both of them shifting their weight on their horses to turn them around. 

 

“You wanted excitement,” Jace said, watching Alec’s back and urging Carrie into a canter when Magnum picked up the pace. They had wandered a long way while they had been talking.

 

Izzy chose not to answer her brother’s remark, laying Simona’s reigns over her thighs to unwind her whips, letting them snake out from under the long sleeves of her coat as she caught up to Alec.

 

Alec kept his eyes trained on the forests, hearing his siblings at his back, an arrow already nocked. Emerging out onto the main thoroughfare in front of the gates, he squeezed his knees, stopping Magnus in his tracks, continuing to survey the surrounding areas.

 

Jace adjusted his weapons belt until all of his daggers were in reach before yanking his Seraph blade from the scabbard at his hip. Reigning Carrie in when he met his brother, he walked her around until he was on Alec’s right-hand side, scanning the forest to his right.

Alec concentrated on the cobbled road that led down to the plains and, further out, the lake when Izzy stopped at his left flank, his sister surveying the forest to their left. Tension thrummed through him as he trained his gaze on the bend in the road, the cobbles disappearing into the forest. He didn’t have to wait long for their uninvited guests.

 

“Three? Maybe you should let off a warning shot, they might leave without a fight,” Izzy said, watching the trio that had rounded the corner in the distance, her stomach jumping around inside of her.

 

“What do you think?” Alec asked Jace, training his bow on the middle figure that was approaching slowly.

 

“Stick one in the ground,” Jace said, his eyes occasionally flicking to the forest on either side of the figures, looking out for an ambush, in case it was a trick. The newcomers seemed to be walking slowly enough or stumbling, more like, but it could be a trick.

 

Alec let his arrow fly, nocking another one as he watched it arch over the distance between them before landing what looked to be a foot in front of the middle figure, stopping all three of them. Training his bow on them again, his eyes flicked to the arrow, stuck in the dirt, quivering from the force. Squeezing his knees together, he urged Magnum into a slow walk, already knowing his siblings were following by scent.

 

“Who are they?” Izzy asked as unease rolled through her, her stomach really starting to churn. Watching the three figures put there hands above their heads had confusion rolling through her as well. Warlocks didn’t walk calmly up to Shadowhunters, they came at them swinging. “Do you think they are here to talk?” she asked. 

 

“Izzy, it's you,” Jace said, staring at the right-hand figure as they moved closer to the group. He didn’t know who the woman was but he would swear it was his sister if she wasn’t sat on her horse, on the other side of Alec.

 

“What do you mean it’s… wait, it’s you,” Izzy said, chancing a glance at Jace when she saw that the closest stranger to her looked like Jace. Not an exact replica but it was close, right down to the gaping mouth.

 

“It’s all of us,” Alec said, looking himself in the eye. Or a replica of himself, staring back, just as hard. Unable to look away from the stranger who wore his face, he watched as the image of his shocked face flickered, his eyes narrowing when he realised that it was a glamour. “Whoever you are, drop the…” he cut off his angry snarl when the strangers did just that, their glamours melting away.

 

“Who are they?” Jace asked, his knees involuntarily squeezing together to walk his horse forward, unable to rip his gaze away from the petite redhead who was approaching him. Even Alec’s hand, landing on his arm couldn’t pull his eyes away from her.

 

“It’s another Warlock… it’s a… a trick,” Alec stuttered, his head swimming as he stared at the man in the middle of the group, his gaze boring into the man’s brown eyes. “They’re the wrong colour,” he said, not even understanding the words that were coming from his own mouth. The man was beautiful, the most beautiful man he had ever seen but for some reason, the eyes looked wrong.

 

Magnus stared at the man on the horse in the middle, unable to stop himself from stumbling forward. It felt like something was pulling him forward and he didn’t even try to fight it. The thundering in his chest would have been worrying if he hadn’t been staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen. The image that he had lain over his own face didn’t do them justice. 

 

“Simon, who is he?” Clary asked, staring at the man who looked even better than Simon’s glamour. Magnus had had to separate her and Simon, seriously thinking that they were going to fall upon each other. The dizziness that had been coming in waves since she had seen Simon’s glamour, ramped up a few notches.

 

“How should I know? I’ve never seen him before, I just used the first image that came to mind,” Simon said, looking at the woman on the horse opposite him. He couldn’t even spare a glance for the blonde Shadowhunter, too consumed by the woman that swayed on her horse.

 

Magnus took another step forward, unable to help himself, stumbling to his knees when an image flashed behind his eyes, an image of the stranger that he was staring at, laughing. The ground came for his knees hard but he couldn’t find it in him to care as another image rose up, a pair of long legs, wrapping around him. And another, worried hazel eyes that shone with hurt before arms reached out and plump lips whispered soft, reassuring words. Words filled with love.

 

Alec dropped his bow when the man hit the ground. There was nobody else, no Warlocks, no missions or patrol or danger, there was just him. Launching himself off of his horse, he hit the ground running, needing to get to the man. Until the wind changed. The scent that was a perfect match to his own had him skidding to a stop ten feet short. It hit him like a rock being flung into his stomach, like a whole sack of them.  _ Omega. My Omega. _

 

An image of the Omega, sitting with the sun at his back with a blanket pooled around his hips, had Alec dashing forward once more. More images came, making him stumble but he fought through the rush of pictures and the sounds that accompanied them. He had never seen the man before but picture after picture came; swimming in a lake, tears falling from screwed up eyes, a comb being tugged through wild hair. 

 

Falling to his knees, a foot from the man, Alec reached out and tugged his chin up, searching the face as it rose. Amber cat eyes, filled with tears, met his, wrenching a shaky sob from him. 

 

“Who are you?” Magnus choked out, searching every inch of the face in front of him when he lifted his head, even as the scent that filled his nose told him the man was his Alpha. Reaching out, he tried to blink the images away, to see the face properly. Barely registering the thud next to him as someone dropped to their knees, or Clary, dashing forward, he steadied himself by holding onto the Shadowhunter’s cheek.

 

Alec couldn’t find it in him to produce an answer as more images came, more sounds and scents, engulfing him in a dizzying, confusing torrent. A touch on his cheek grounded him and stole his breath at the same time, clearing the images a little. He leaned into the touch, needing it more than he had needed anything in his life. _ Lives? _ Everything was too confusing.

 

Izzy had followed her brother without a moment's hesitation, falling from Simona and stumbling forward, when a trickle of images of the beautiful black-eyed man had started coming thick and fast. They flooded her mind when she stumbled into his arms, unable to understand why they felt so right, wrapped around her, the man was a stranger. _He isn’t a stranger, he’s … my Alpha._

 

Unaware of what she was doing, Izzy took deep breaths, breathing in the scent of orange blossom. It was accompanied by images of cute dimples, a hair sprinkled chest, black eyes, looking at her in a hundred different ways, the beautiful man wrapped around her in a bed.

 

“Why are you in my head?” Simon asked, clutching the woman’s face as he searched it. Something about the confused, beautiful brown eyes that met his had his heart soaring, the face was precious to him, he was certain of it. The woman who collapsed into him, sobbing her beautiful eyes out, was precious to him. “Don’t cry, please… don’t cry,” he whispered as he sank to the ground and pulled her with him, taking in deep lungfuls of her beautiful Omega scent.

 

Izzy went. She had never been more confused in her life, the man was a stranger and yet she knew him better than she knew herself. Folding herself into him, she shuddered as more images filled her mind, images of flashing swords, catching the light, images of him on his knees at her feet, golden runes, turning black. It was too much, she couldn’t process it all.

 

“I don’t understand,” Clary mumbled, tightening her arms around the blonde Shadowhunter’s neck as she tried to blink her tears away. _ I’m hugging a Shadowhunter. Why doesn’t it feel wrong? Why do I know without a doubt that he is my Alpha?  _ Pulling back slightly, she looked up, trying to get a good look at him, even as image after image of him flooded her mind. 

 

The pictures and sounds made Clary feel even dizzier, spinning through her mind; making love on a cave floor, a deep flush on the man’s cheeks as he handed her a bunch of flowers, blonde hair, mingling with her red hair as they had sat whispering together near a fire.

 

“What’s happening?” Jace choked out, burying his face in the red curls, piled atop his Omega’s head, not completely understanding why the thought of seeing any traces of hate or regret on her face would turn his stomach to stone. The image of her eyes glowing with happiness, love, lust, need, that filled his head, only confused him more for how desperate he was to see it. 

 

“It’s too much… there’s too many...” Clary trailed off, too many pictures, sounds and scents filling her head to distinguish between them. It had her stomach rolling and her skin heating up. The look of pure love, shining in blue and brown eyes, did nothing to make the feelings abate but it did make her heart soar. 

 

“Jace,” Clary muttered when a name came to her, wiping at her face. Mainly her eyes but also her forehead. Jace’s cool lips pressing to her head had her melting into him, tilting her head to capture the lips with her own as images of white and gold wings and black and copper wings filled her head

 

“Your name is Isabelle… Izzy,” Simon murmured, staring into Izzy’s eyes. Her glowing eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed his warm lips to her eyelids when images of beautiful, blinding wings filled his head. The image had him pressing his lips to every inch of her face that he could reach, which was all of it. The rose-gold marbling of those wings should be branded into his eyelids.

 

“I didn’t even know I was missing you, but I did, I missed you so much,” Izzy said, her eyes still closed when the man,  _ Simon,  _ she realised, nosed her face up and captured her lips. Her hands tightened on Simon’s shoulders, pulling him closer and sinking into the lips that felt like home.

 

“Magnus,” Alec sighed against his mate’s lips when the name came to him, before he pouted, speaking the thousand apologies that were on the tip of his tongue, with his lips.  _ Whatever the apologies are for, I know that I mean every single one of them, from the souls of my feet to the tips of my… the tips of my…?  _ A frustrated growl grumbled through him as he moulded himself to Magnus’ chest, his arms tightened around his Omega’s back, clutching him to his chest when a cacophony of images of wings filled his head.

 

“Alex… Alexander?” Magnus gasped between kisses, feeling like his skin was on fire but not giving one single fuck. Alec’s arms, wrapped around him were home. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had felt them around him, cold against his waist, even through his clothes, but they were where he belonged.  “My Alpha,” he said, the image of white and silver wings, with one black and bronze feather in them, filling his head.

 

“Are you okay? You feel so hot,” Alec murmured, pressing his forehead to Magnus’ burning forehead to try and breathe, unsure if it was Magnus’ kiss that stole his breath or the fresh flood of images filled his head, wings. Angel wings and demon wings.

 

“I’m not hot, you’re cold,” Magnus muttered, pulling back to look his Alpha over. The bright, golden glow of Alec’s runes and eyes had him blinking, trying to focus on his mate, through the glow. His peripheral caught on Jace and Izzy, both glowing as brightly as Alec was but his eyes found his mate again, the dizziness that was stealing through him in waves turning to unease. 

 

“What’s happening?” Alec asked, holding Magnus closer when his Omega pulled back. His stomach turned to lead when he saw his mate’s face, glowing just as brightly as his own was. It was a different glow, a fiery glow that had tears rolling down his face before he even knew why. “Magnus?” he asked.

 

Magnus looked away from Alec for one moment, to look at his friends… his family, his rolling stomach sinking even further when he saw that he and Alec weren’t the only ones who were glowing. Alec’s heavy breathing had his eyes snapping back to his mate, grabbing Alec’s face when his Alpha glowed brighter, blindingly so.

 

Magnus collapsed forward when a wave of heat shot through him, burning through his core. Landing in Alec’s arms for one second, he looked up, fear curling through him as he met Alec’s impossibly bright gaze before Alec faded into nothing, leaving him to collapse forward and slam into the ground.

 

“Alexander?” Magnus screamed before the heat that had been building, consumed him. The last image he saw before everything disappeared in a haze of fire was his friends, collapsing to the ground with shouts of their own, Alec, Izzy and Jace gone.

  
  


**

 

“Alexander?” Magnus screamed through his raw, parched throat when he slammed into the ground.  _ The ground?  _ His head snapped up, his gut lurching even harder when he realised where he was. The lurching that had assaulted his stomach felt like it was going to turn him inside out as he stared at the floor of his father’s throne room. Every memory snapped into focus, shuddering through him all at once.

 

Magnus looked up when a thud either side of him and four shouts, ringing through the room, caught his attention.

 

“Jace?” Clary cried, her head whipping from side to side, searching through her denial for her Alpha, barely registering the two women that were staring at her and her friends. 

 

“Izzy?” Simon yelled, looking at his empty hands, hands that had been holding her a moment ago. The shock that he was feeling doubled when a shout had his head snapping up, his stomach lurching when he met his mother’s gaze.

 

“Simon?” Elaine shrieked, almost falling from her chair in her haste to reach her son when he appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the floor with Magnus and Clary. She barely had a second to wonder where Izzy was before she was in her son’s arms, Cat only a beat behind her.

 

“Dad?” Cat screamed, her gut lurching, the spell she had been working on forgotten when her dad appeared in the middle of the room. The shock of seeing him after so long almost had her glued to her chair until he looked up.

 

Magnus’ head whipped around when the last one rose above the others, turning into a scream, his desolation, confusion and anger turning to shock. The sight of a blue-skinned young woman, hurling herself across the room at him would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been on them. Images of her flooded him, just as fast as the images of Alec had come.  _ My baby girl! _

 

“Catarina?” Magnus asked, opening his arms wide as his daughter fell into them. Fighting the shock that was trying to take over him, he crushed Cat to him, tears rolling down his face when she buried her face in his neck.

 

“You came back!” Cat cried, shaking as her dad’s arms wrapped tightly around her. Her wings burst from her back to wrap around them both, wanting to hold him to her and never let go again. “Are you here alone? Did my father come with you?” she asked, fighting her sob to get the words out, to ask about Alec.

 

“I don’t know where he is, something happened… we found each other and then… he just… disappeared,” Magnus muttered, opening his eyes and pulling back to get a good look at his daughter, barely registering Elaine’s presence a few feet from them, wrapped around Simon and sobbing into his neck.

 

“My sweet little girl, you got so big, so beautiful!” Magnus said, wiping his face to look at Cat. She wasn’t so little anymore, she had turned into a beautiful young woman while he had been gone.  _ How long have I been gone? And why is she here?  _ He wondered. “How long have I…?”

 

“Seven years,” Cat said, sitting up and wiping her own tears away, desperately wishing Alec could have come for her too. And wishing she knew what had happened to him. Maybe there was one person who would know. 

 

“Where is he, Asmodeus? Where is my father ?” Cat growled, scrambling to her feet and dragging her dad up with her to turn on Asmodeus. The fear she used to have of him had long since been replaced with hatred and anger.

 

Magnus turned when Cat did, his eyes landing on Asmodeus, sitting on his throne, watching them. The amusement, plain on Asmodeus’ face, had anger boiling in the pit of his stomach.

 

“So, the prodigal son and his sidekicks have returned,” Asmodeus said, ignoring Cat’s question to look down at Magnus, Clary and Simon. Rolling his eyes at the growl that erupted from Elaine when Simon pushed his mother behind him, he turned his attention back to his son. “Seven years, that was faster than I was expecting.”

 

“What the fuck is going on? Why am I here, Asmodeus?” Magnus snarled, glaring at the greater demon. The need for answers was the only thing that stopped him from launching himself across the room and wiping the smug grin off of Asmodeus’ face. 

 

“All sons must return to the halls of their fathers at some point,” Asmodeus said, looking Magnus and his friends over, noting the changes and the odd clothing they were wearing.  _ Mortals are certainly creative.  _ He thought, eyeing the low neckline of Clary’s dress.

 

“Where is my Alpha?” Magnus growled, his eyes narrowing at Asmodeus’ statement, the demon wasn’t his father anymore. Sentencing them to an eternity of misery had seen to that. Seeing Asmodeus’ eyes narrow had him glaring right back. “Why am here, Asmodeus? We broke the curse so where is he?”

 

“You broke nothing except for my heart when you took that thing to your bed,” Asmodeus growled, taking to his feet when Magnus stepped forward. “You are here because you are tethered to his fate, all of you are tethered to their fates. Did you really think that you broke The Host’s curse simply because you met up with your mates again? The only thing you did was reset the curse, there is no breaking it.”

 

“Tethered to their fates?” Clary asked staring up at Asmodeus. She wanted to be sick, swaying on the spot until Simon and Elaine steadied her. If they were here in Edom, then that must mean that their mates had gone to the heavens. The thought had her gasping for air that wouldn’t come. “Are they dead? Did we kill them?” she asked past the lump in her throat.

 

“They aren’t dead nor are they in the heavens, they were banished. They can’t set foot in the heavenly realms,” Asmodeus said, taking a seat once more when Magnus deflated, crossing one knee over the other.

 

“Stop speaking in riddles, Asmodeus. Where are our mates? What happened to them,” Magnus growled, his patience wearing thin. Cat’s hand, sliding into his, brought him some small comfort but the need for his mate, to know that Alec was okay was testing his will to hold back from unleashing every ounce of his power on his father.

 

“When you met them again, you reset their curses, thus, you also reset your own curses. They cannot enter the heavens so they have returned to the place they fell and it will start all over again, from the beginning. The very beginning. This is merely a pause in your curse. You will return to begin again,” Asmodeus shrugged.

 

“If my dad and Clary and Simon are tethered to their mates, why did they end up here? Shouldn’t they have… “reset” too?” Cat asked, wondering what in the name of Edom Asmodeus was talking about. Her eyes narrowed when Asmodeus’ lips tugged up in a feral smirk “you brought them back here to rub it in, didn’t you, you spiteful bastard?” she asked.

 

Magnus squeezed Cat’s hand. He would have scolded her for the word if he didn’t agree. Memories swam behind his eyes, from before the fall, of Asmodeus incanting several spells as he “tethered them to their mates”. Despair crashed through him, along with his father's words. “ _ There is no breaking the curse”. “It will start all over again”. We are going back. This is going to happen every time I meet Alexander. Every time I find him, this will happen, again and again. _

 

“Come now, Magnus, did you really think it would be that easy? You are there to be punished, not live happily ever after with your mate,” Asmodeus said when he saw the desolation that was stamped all over his sons face. “You should be thanking me for this great boon,” he said, inspecting the nails on his left hand.

 

“Thanking you? For what?” Magnus choked out, staring incredulously at his father. “For trying to sell me to the highest bidder? For ripping me away from my mate and child when you could have offered us aid? What the fuck should I be thanking you for? An endless existence of misery?”

 

“You should be thanking me for adding a spell that brings you back here instead of resetting you straight away. Now you get to watch Catarina grow up… during your visits,” Asmodeus said, gesturing to Cat.  _ If Magnus is going to insist that the girl is his daughter then he should be grateful that he gets to visit her. _

 

“Get to watch her grow up? I’ve already missed it, because of you, you selfish asshole,” Magnus snarled, looking to his daughter.  _ She is seventeen now, a year away from presenting. She is practically a woman already. And I have missed it all.  _ The thought had him pulling her into a hug, his stomach lurching when he was able to rest his chin on her head.

 

“We have missed so much!” Magnus muttered, pulling Cat away from Asmodeus towards Elaine, Clary and Simon. “Your father would be so happy to see you,” he said past the lump in his throat, devastated that Alec couldn’t be there to see how big their girl had gotten.

 

“How is he?” Cat asked, hoping that her dads had at least gotten to spend some time together and desperate for any news of Alec. “have you been… suffering?” she asked, voicing the fears that she had lived with for the last seven years, that they would suffer. 

 

“No, little one, I haven’t been suffering, just bored. Life has been very boring,” Magnus said, the implications of what his life for the last seven years had been, dawning on him. Shadowhunters and Warlocks were mates, fighting each other without even knowing it. How could he tell her that?  _ I can’t.  _ “And your father looked amazing when I saw him, just as beautiful as the first time I saw him,” he said instead, choosing not to tell her how tired and confused, and scared Alec had looked, she didn’t need to know what they had been reduced to.

 

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Magnus asked to change the subject, accepting a one-armed hug from Elaine, Elaine’s other arm wrapped tightly around Simon’s neck. The look that Cat and Elaine shared had unease rolling through him.

 

“I’m so sorry, Magnus. I tried to keep her away from him but Asmodeus had other ideas,” Elaine said bitterly, her eyes flicking over Magnus’ shoulder to Asmodeus. “I did what I could to look after her but he threatened to banish me from the realm…” she trailed off, not quite knowing how to tell Magnus how badly she had failed him.

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Cat reassured Elaine for what must have been the thousandth time, Elaine had even given up her home for her, to stay close by so that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Asmodeus. 

 

“After you were all banished, I came back here. I snook out of Elaine’s house, to come back. I just wanted to be close to you. Asmodeus found me. He was so… angry. Until he saw me. He decided that if he couldn’t have you, he would have me instead…” Cat trailed off, seeing her dad’s eyes flash dangerously.  _ I've missed them, so much!  _ She thought, memorising them once more.

 

“What do you mean, “have you instead”?” Magnus asked, his stomach dropping as his gaze flicked from Cat to Elaine and back again.

 

“When you and father killed Camille, her demons took over her realm. When she died, the contract that Asmodeus signed disappeared without a trace,” Cat said, looking from face to face. “Asmodeus lost his claim on Eidol. The other realms realised that he might be an easier target without an heir so he decided he needed one, to strengthen his position,” she mumbled.

 

“You… he’s making you live here, as his surrogate heir?” Magnus snarled, his vision turning red when Cat nodded. Forgetting all about magic, he spun on the spot and went for Asmodeus, intending to rip his head off with his bare hands. He knew exactly what it was like to be raised by Asmodeus, his daughter would never know the love or kindness that she deserved.

 

Asmodeus didn’t bat an eyelid as he twisted his fingers, securing a magical grip on Magnus. Another twist had his son’s friends stopping in there tracks too. He almost wished he could turn Magnus’ snarls down too.

 

“Let go of me,” Magnus snarled, fighting the grip Asmodeus had on him. “You banish me and try to steal my daughter? Let go of me and face me you fucking coward,” he screamed, beside himself with fury.

 

“My granddaughter is a little more willful than you were but she will make a fine heir to the throne of Edom. The others aren’t so quick to come for what’s mine with her around, she is quite fiery. And I let Elaine stay with her, a young lady needs female company after all,” Asmodeus said, silently thinking that Magnus should be thanking him that she had Elaine.

 

“My child is not a political device to keep your enemies at bay,” Magnus snarled, his magic growing stronger by the second. He was almost through the magical grip Asmodeus had on him when Asmodeus realised what he was doing.

 

“I think it’s time for you to be on your way, Magnus. You seem to forget you are a guest here now,” Asmodeus said, not even bothering to rise to his feet. “You can take your friends with you,” he said.

 

“I am taking my daughter with me,” Magnus snarled, fighting to get to Cat. As far as he was concerned, she was old enough to live in their cabin. Anything would be better than her being forced to live with Asmodeus. The sight of his father, waving a hand, had panic coursing through him. “I love you, my darling. I’ll find a way to come for you,” he shouted at Cat, even as his father completed whatever spell he was casting. 

 

Cat sagged into Elaine’s arms when her dad, Simon and Clary disappeared, tears running down her face. He had been taken from her again. She wrapped her arms around Elaine when she saw how affected Elaine was too, anger and sadness pulsing through her in waves.

 

“I fucking hate you!” Cat screamed at Asmodeus before turning her back on him to lead Elaine back to their quarters, quarters that felt empty without Magnus. 

 

Wiping her tears away as she led Elaine through the hallways, resolve sank into Cat’s stomach like a stone. Asmodeus could say what he liked about the curse being unbreakable, she knew it was a lie, it had to be. 

 

Every spell had a counterspell, every potion had an opposite to combat its effects and every curse was breakable, she had learned as much from Asmodeus himself, during her lessons on how to be the perfect heir. She just had to find a way. 

 

If Magnus was unable to remember long enough to find it, then it was down to her. After he and Alec had taken her in, she owed it to them to break the damned curse, so that they could all be together once more.

 

**

 

**_Idris_ **

 

Jonathan Shadowhunter climbed down from his horse when he reached the crater. Not a new one, the original one that they had landed in. Grabbing a few blankets from the saddlebag of his horse, he climbed down the crater, shaking his head when he reached them and took his stele out. Creating a portal in midair, he pushed it with his hand, watching as it spun and opened. 

“Knightblood, Coldwell, some new recruits,” Jonathan said when two Shadowhunters stepped out of the portal, ignoring the confused, tired looks on their faces. Bending down, he wrapped one of the blankets around the girl and scooped her up, bouncing her to stop her cries. 

 

“You always wanted to go to an institute, Isabelle. Now is your time,” Jonathan said as he stared down into the baby’s brown eyes. Using his stele, he marked her with her angelic rune before handing her over to Knightblood.

 

“These are the Lightwood siblings. Isabelle and Jace,” Jonathan said as he scooped Jace up into another blanket and marked him with an angelic rune too, the baby’s blue and brown eyes filling with tears as he let out a shrill shriek. Placing Jace in Knightblood’s other arm, he turned for the last baby.

 

“And this is their brother, Alec,” Jonathan said, staring down into the small hazel eyes that blinked up at him before marking the baby with his angelic rune and handing him over to Coldwell. “Raise them well, they are the next generation,” he said, watching as the two Shadowhunters nodded and carried the babies through the portal before he returned to his horse, ready to return to the Gard.

 

** 

 

**_Madrid_ **

 

Lorenzo didn’t bother to hold back his irritated sigh as he stepped out of his portal and marched down the side of the crater, muttering to himself the entire way.

 

“Send them out to get a damned book and this is what happens!” Lorenzo muttered, snapping his fingers to produce a few blankets as he reached the centre. With a deep sigh, he waved his arms and intoned a spell, wrapping the three babies, that lay at his feet, in the blankets and magically lifting them into the air.

 

“I knew you would be the bane of my existence the moment I met you,” Lorenzo muttered at Magnus, looking into his tiny cat eyes, cursing that he would have to teach the three of them glamours all over again. Clary’s red eyes and Simon’s black eyes were just as bright.

 

“I think I will keep you all a little closer this time. Maybe if I raise you myself, the three of you won’t be so defiant,” Lorenzo muttered, turning towards his portal when he scooped them into his arms.  _ Yes, they will be much easier to control this time around. _

He thought as he stepped through the portal, to return home.

 


	2. 1634

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. I'm sorry it took so long to update, real life is kicking my arse once more. I will try to update every Friday night from now on and more often; if I can manage it but I can only promise once a week for just now. Thank you for your patience!

**_Madrid_ **

  
  


Magnus didn’t bother knocking when he reached Clary’s house. Clutching the three bottles of wine that he had pilfered from Lorenzo’s private stash, he walked straight in, more than ready for a night of wine and bitching.

 

“Biscuit, are you home?” Magnus called, closing the door behind him and wandering through the hallway. Finding Clary in the parlour, sitting in her favourite wingback chair in front of a roaring open fire, he shook the bottles of wine in her direction, grinning when her eyes widened.

 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” Clary asked, rising to greet Magnus with a kiss to each of his cheeks.

 

“Because… I don’t know, I just do,” Magnus shrugged, trying to think of when and how the name had come about. It wouldn't come to him. Deciding that he had always called her that, he shrugged the question away, it obviously wasn’t important.

 

“Is this from Lorenzo’s wine cellar?” Clary asked, taking one of the bottles from Magnus and inspecting the label. She would recognise it anywhere. Only Lorenzo Rey was arrogant enough to commission artists to hand illustrate his wine labels. “How did you get them? Those anti-magic spells of his are ridiculously hard to get past,” she asked.

 

“That’s your fault, he only put those spells on his cellar because you used to conjure every bottle that wasn’t spelled down in that place,” Magnus chuckled, snapping his fingers to conjure three glasses onto the small table next to Clary’s chair. Choosing not to think about his own thefts during their adolescence, he answered her question instead.  

 

“And those spells only work if you try and steal anything with your magic. I walked in and took them,” Magnus grinned, shrugging off his cloak and throwing it over the back of the companion chair on the right-hand side of the fire. “Where’s Simon?” he asked, looking around for their friend.

 

“He couldn’t make it tonight, he’s on some mission for Lorenzo,” Clary said as she poured them a glass of dark red wine each. “I wish he was here, it’s been too long since we’ve spent some proper time together. I miss him,” she said, they were more like siblings than friends, having grown up together in Lorenzo’s palace.  _ It’s not a palace, it’s a large house!  _ She silently corrected herself. Lorenzo was full of shit, the place was a palace.

 

“We had lunch together two days ago,” Magnus chuckled. He had to admit, he did miss them, they were all the family he had. 

 

“Two days is too long,” Clary pouted, handing a glass over to Magnus and resuming her seat. She missed the days of running wild through the palace, learning magic together, driving Lorenzo insane from their antics.

 

“True. Hasn’t Lorenzo ever heard of a night off? He knows we always have dinner together on a Sunday evening,” Magnus muttered, accepting his wine and shrugging his boots off, leaving him in just his hose. The spurs on the back of his boots were rubbing on the backs of his heels again. 

 

“I swear, he’s obsessed with the Shadowhunters,” Clary said, rolling her eyes as she took a deep swig of Lorenzo’s best wine. “Why does he even care about them?” she asked.

 

“Because he is a sad little man and he has no life,” Magnus suggested, a grin tugging the corners of his mouth up when Clary snorted into her wine. None of them liked their surrogate father very much.

 

“How do you think it even started?” Clary asked, yanking a hankie from the three-quarter sleeve of her gown to dab at the dark gold silk, trying in vain to rid her gown of the wine spots. “We’ve been fighting them for years,” she muttered absentmindedly.

 

“I don’t know. We fight them because “they are the enemy”,” Magnus quoted, imitating Lorenzo’s whiney voice as he rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks. “What does that even mean?” he asked with a scowl.

 

“I’m fucked if I know,” Clary shrugged. “They are the enemy” had been Lorenzo’s answer since any of them had been old enough to ask why they fought the Shadowhunters. 

 

“It’s all pretty pointless if you ask me. Neither side wins whenever it comes to tussle. I don’t even hate them, I don’t know a Warlock that really does so what’s the point? We squabble over petty stupid things, who cares what territory belongs to who?” Magnus asked with a sad shake of his head.

 

It was the main point of contention between their two sides, territory disputes, especially in the cities around the world that had Shadowhunter Institutes.

 

“There isn’t one. We spy on them, they spy on us. Sure, they think they are better than us but really, who gives a shit about what they think? And it’s not like we actually prey on mundanes or whatever it is they think we do,” Clary muttered. Giving up on trying to blot the wine from her gown, she looked up to see Magnus rubbing at his shoulder.

 

“I forgot, Simon asked me to give you something,” Clary said, setting her glass down on the small table next to her chair. Climbing to her feet, she scooped up a candle from the table and used the glow to start rooting through the bureau in the corner by the fire.

 

Magnus watched Clary dig through the drawers in her bureau, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as he waited for whatever Clary was looking for. The light of the fire, gleaming off of the ring on his left hand caught his attention. Forgetting all about Simon’s gift, he inspected the silver ring, wondering for the hundredth time what had made him buy it.

 

Magnus had seen a collection of rings, shining in the torchlight that had lit up the Moroccan market that they had landed in after Simon had gotten them lost in a portal. The jewellery had caught his and Clary’s eyes, both of them unable to resist. Clary had selected a golden band with a blue topaz set into it, something about the colour of the stone calling to her. He had been about to select a ring with the letter M engraved in it when another had caught his eye and he had bought that instead.

 

“His portal skills still haven’t improved all that much,” Magnus mused as he traced the letter A, engraved on the square silver surface of the ring, with his pinkie. Whatever had made him choose it, it was his most treasured possession.

 

“Who’s portal skills?” Clary asked, clutching the small bottle that she had been looking for, in her hand as she closed up the bureau and made her way back to her chair.

 

“Hm?” Magnus asked, snapped out of his reverie when Clary handed him a small blue bottle. Raising it to eye level, he inspected it, his eyebrow furrowing in question.

 

“Who’s portal skills haven’t improved?” Clary asked, her own brow furrowing when Magnus stared at her. “You just said his portal skills haven’t improved,” she said, confusion swirling at the mystified expression on Magnus’ face.

 

“Did I? Can’t have been important,” Magnus shrugged as the memory of the words trickled from his mind. It would only have a headache forming if he tried to think of it too hard anyway. “What is this?” he asked, holding the bottle up.

 

“Simon invented a potion for the aches,” Clary said, also shrugging the confusing turn of conversation off, it was fading away anyway. “It works, mostly. The aches don’t fade completely but it makes them easier to bare,” she said, nodding when Magnus set his glass in his lap and pulled the lid off of the small bottle.

 

“It is made from Actaea racemosa and poppy. He said to only take a couple of drops, it is strong,” Clary said, watching over Magnus as he dipped his finger into the bottle and put a little on his tongue.

 

“Has he found a way to get rid of the dreams yet?” Magnus asked, rolling his shoulders once more, a small breath sighing out as the potion started working. All of them had had the aches since they had been children. The High Warlock had never told them why but the aches had been a constant thing that they had gotten used to over time.

 

“No, but that was how he developed that potion, trying to come up with something. I don’t think he will ever give up. We will just have to keep using sleeping potion until then. Imagine an entire night of sleep,” Clary said, her imagination running wild. Just one night of not being plagued by dreams that they couldn’t remember the next day would be nice. 

 

“Of course he won’t, it’s his life’s work,” Magnus said, also imagining what proper sleep felt like. The potion, taking the edge off of his aches, had him slumping in his chair, feeling better by the minute. Sipping his wine, he thought about Simon’s work, about how his friend had spent hours, weeks, years trying to come up with potions for what ailed them. Simon was practically a healer, having made quite a few discoveries.

 

“Talking of sleep, you look like you’re about to doze off,” Clary said, grinning at the almost blissed-out expression on Magnus’ face. It was to be expected, the break from the constant ache was amazing. “Would you like some dinner before you pass out?” she asked.

 

“Sure,” Magnus said, climbing to his feet and holding a hand out for Clary, pulling her to her feet too. Collecting a bottle of wine, he let Clary slide a hand into the crook of his elbow and led the way to her dining room.

 

Clary lit the candles in the sconces that decorated the dining room with a wave of her hand and accepted the chair that Magnus pulled out for her. A dizzying wave of deja vu hit when Magnus pushed the chair under her and took a seat to her right. Of course, Magnus was always a gentleman but her eyes flicked to the head of the table, to her left, as though expecting to see someone sitting there.

 

“Are you okay?” Magnus asked, his brow furrowing with concern when Clary swayed in her chair, the movement making him pause in his task of refilling their glasses. 

 

“Sure… I just… it’s nothing,” Clary said, smiling when Magnus handed her glass over. Shaking it off as it disappeared from her mind, she summoned them a plate of roasted venison and vegetables each. “Make sure you eat your carrots,” she said absentmindedly, scooping her own carrots up. 

 

“Sorry, I almost forgot that I was ten and needed to be told how to eat. And to think, I had only planned on eating my peas,” Magnus said with mock indignation, dutifully scooping his carrots up. A wide grin almost split his face in two when his eye caught on the label of the wine bottle, eyeing the depiction of a bottle being poured out into a glass.

 

“Hey, remember when Simon changed all of the labels of Lorenzo’s wine bottles to make it look like a boy, peeing into a glass,” Magnus said, laughing when Clary almost inhaled her peas, remembering how livid Lorenzo had been when he had seen the labels. The picture of a boy, pissing into a glass had looked suspiciously like Simon, bare ass cheeks and all.

 

“Man, I thought Lorenzo was going to cane him! Remember Simon’s face when he had been banned from using Magic for a month and he’d had to live like a mundane!” Clary laughed, trying not to spray the table with mashed up vegetables.

 

“Remember when you did pee in his 15th-century vase?” Magnus asked, howling when Clary’s face turned bright red, her eyes flashing just as brightly.

 

“I was seven, and I couldn’t find a chamber pot!” Clary exclaimed, defending her totally innocent mistake before draining her glass.

 

“Ha, horse shit! You were twelve and you did it on purpose when Lorenzo gave us another lecture about his boring antiques,” Magnus chuckled.

 

“Semantics,” Clary said, waving her hand with a flourish as she topped their drinks up. An idea had her grinning. Grabbing the wine bottle, she magically peeled the label off of it and flipped it over.

 

Magnus watched Clary etch a fire message onto the back of the label, shaking his head when he saw what she had written.

 

**_Wish you were here!_ **

 

Magnus watched her send it with a wave of her wrist, already knowing who the recipient would be. It didn’t take Simon long to reply.

 

**_I shudder to think where you got this from. I hope you both have stinking hangover’s in the morning while I make your lives a misery!_ **

 

Magnus had to laugh, imagining Simon shuddering, it was a very real possibility. Simon had never been the same after his month of living as a mundane. Raising his hand, he snatched a second note from the air, laughing when he read it.

 

**_Save a bottle for me, I know you have more than one._ **

 

“He knows us far too well!” Clary grinned, debating whether it would be worth the aggravation of Simon’s pouting, to finish the bottles off.

 

Magnus had no compunctions about finishing the bottles off. Summoning the last one, he filled their glasses up before finishing his meal.

 

“Hey, did I tell you that a new Shadowhunter has taken over the Institute here in Madrid?” Clary asked as she lay her knife and fork down and picked up her newly filled glass.

 

“Really? When?” Magnus asked, his ears perking up at the new information. Gossip was gossip, no matter if it was about another Warlock or a Shadowhunter. “And how do you know about it before me?” he added, not pouting, at all.

 

“Last week,” Clary smirked into the rim of her glass, holding out for a minute when Magnus glared at her until she took pity on him. “I found out when I accidentally overheard Lorenzo meeting with Helen. She has been watching the Institute,” she said.

 

“Accidentally?” Magnus asked, disbelief pushing his eyebrows into his hairline. “Why am I just hearing about this now?” he asked, letting the betrayal show in his tone.

 

“I was waiting until we were all together to tell you. Lorenzo scuppered that though,” Clary said, summoning a pie for afters. She had wanted to tell Simon and Magnus together but Simon would have to wait to hear the news.

 

“So what happened to Underhill? He’s been the Head of the Institute since I can remember,” Magnus asked, glaring at the fruit pie Clary had summoned when he saw the dark berry filling. “I’m not eating that!” he said.

 

“More for me,” Clary shrugged before stuffing a huge spoonful of pie into her mouth. Chewing furiously, she watched Magnus summon a cheeseboard before answering. “Nobody knows. He just vanished overnight. One day he was there, making our lives a misery, the next he was just gone!” she said when she swallowed. 

 

“Maybe he ran off with Meliorn?” Magnus said, grinning and rubbing Clary’s back when she choked on her pie.

 

“Do you think so?” Clary asked when she could breathe, eyes impossibly wide. “That would explain where he disappeared to last week. Lorenzo was in a foul mood for days, muttering about disappearing Warlocks,” she mused. The thought of it made her pause in the demolition of her pie.

 

“Don’t be absurd, it was a joke,” Magnus said. If there was one thing that all Warlock’s could agree on, it was that the thought of taking a mate was repellant to them. Add a Shadowhunter into the mix and it was doubly unlikely.

 

“They disappeared around the same time,” Clary said, meeting Magnus’ gaze. The intrigue was plain on his face, it was a mystery. “Maybe Simon will have something to say about it,” she suggested.

 

“Maybe,” Magnus agreed. If there was anyone who would know the latest gossip, it would be Simon.  _ He can sniff information out faster than a bunch of old mundane women.  _ “What is he doing anyway?” he asked.

 

Clary shrugged, Simon hadn’t told her. She was pretty sure they would hear all about his mission in the morning though.

 

Magnus poured the last of the bottle out between their glasses as he picked at his cheese, musing on the disappearance of their friend. And the disappearance of the Institute head. It was utterly ridiculous that the two were connected and yet, something told him it was more likely than they thought. Letting his mind wander, he thought of other strange, unexplained disappearances, straining to remember who else had up and vanished like a fart in the wind. The more he thought about it, however, the more his head ached.

 

“Are you okay?” Clary asked, pushing her plates away and watching Magnus. The pensive, confused expression on his face, along with the odd grimace, had her reaching out, her hand resting on his arm.

 

“Sure, just a bit of a headache,” Magnus said, rubbing at his temples. Just trying to think hurt. “I think I’m going to head home for the night,” he said, scrubbing his hands over his face.

 

“Okay, do you want me to walk you back?” Clary asked, her own head aching from trying to think about the disappearances.

 

“No, I’ll be fine, I’ll portal home,” Magnus said, waving Clary’s offer off with a tired smile. Sure, Clary could defend herself better than most but a lady, out on the streets after dark, was a walking target. 

 

“I don’t mind, it’s only a few minutes walk. Maybe the air will do you good,” Clary offered once more, nodding when he shook his head. The tired expression on Magnus’ face matched her own, maybe she would retire when he left, she was sleeping a little bit better with Simon’s ache potion. Hopefully, she could get a few more hours sleep that she usually did.

 

“Thank you, biscuit, I’ll be fine,” Magnus smiled, giving her hand a squeeze before summoning his boots and coat. Pulling Clary up, he gave her a tight hug and kissed the backs of her hands before taking his leave. 

 

Meandering through the parlour and back out into the hall, Magnus thought of his home, a house similar to Clary’s. Two bedrooms, a parlour and dining room, a small, useless kitchen. It was nice, his home, but it was also lonely. It was, however, his. So he let himself out into the night and created a portal.

 

Only one thought flashed through Magnus’ mind as he stepped through it.  _ Home.  _

  
  


**

 

Kraków

  
  


Alec snapped out of his reverie, glancing up when his brother, Jace, wandered into his office. A smile of approval graced his face when he saw Jace’s fur lined leather coat, black leather doublet and matching leggings, tucked into knee-high boots, his brother was ready for patrol. 

 

“I’m heading out, will you be alright on your own?” Jace asked, his hands resting on the buckle of his weapons belt as he took in the tired, unhappy expression on his brother’s face.

 

“I’m a grown man, Jace, I can handle a few hours alone,” Alec said, rolling his eyes at his brother. He was the head of the Kraków Institute, warrior of the Clave and a grown assed man, he would survive.

 

“It’s okay, you know? I miss her too,” Jace said quietly, perching on the edge of Alec’s desk and tucking his hands into his armpits to look down at Alec. “We haven’t spent a day apart for the last… the last… since the day we were born. It‘s okay to miss her,” he said.

 

“It’s only been a week, how are we supposed to live apart from her for the rest of our lives?” Alec sighed, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “I never thought I could feel this lonely,” he said, shaking his head. Loneliness was the prevailing theme of his life, of all of their lives. Sure, they had always had each other but there had always been something missing from each of their lives.

 

“I know, me too,” Jace said, reaching out to pat Alec’s shoulder. They could be surrounded by people, well, the five people who shared their home, but there was always that elusive something that made each of them feel incomplete. “You’ve finally given yourself a night off, why don’t you go and see her?” he asked.

 

“I give myself nights off,” Alec said defensively, raising an eyebrow at his brother but gripping Jace’s hand for a moment anyway, giving it a light squeeze before letting go.

 

“Sure, and then you spend them filling out reports for Jonathan. You haven’t had a night off in six months, not since Knightblood disappeared,” Jace said, staring pointedly at the quill in Alec’s other hand and the stack of parchment that was sat on the table next to him. Alec hadn’t stopped in the six months that he had been Head of the Institute, not since the previous head had been mysteriously “recalled to the Gard”.

 

“Izzy is still getting settled in Madrid, she doesn’t need me wading in there,” Alec said, his stomach clenching. Yes, he missed her, but the pride he felt for her warred with his selfish need to be with her. He didn’t want to step on her toes. As the new Head of the Madrid Institute, he was sure she wouldn’t want him interfering.

 

“Nobody said you had to go and stick your nose in, you can still visit her. She probably misses us just as much as we miss her and who knows, maybe she’ll want some advice. You had Knightblood to show you how to lead an Institute, she is just starting out,” Jace said, climbing to his feet.

 

“Just think about it. I’m going myself, in a few days but if you go tonight, give her my love. Tell her I miss her and that I miss whooping her ass in training,” Jace said, grinning when Alec chuckled. Raising his hand in a quick salute, he turned on his heel and headed out to go and find out what the local Warlocks were up to this evening.  

 

Alec watched Jace go, the hole in his stomach opening up just a little wider. Then again, the hole that was there had never really been filled. 

 

Looking around his office, Alec thought about his life growing up there. The three of them had spent their childhood running through the halls of the Institute, learning together, training to hunt and defend against Warlocks. They hadn’t ever spent any real time apart, not even when they had spent a few summers at the Gard as teenagers.

 

Every moment, every triumph and failure had been earned and commiserated together. Until Jonathan had sent a fire message a week ago, informing him that Izzy was to take over her own Institute.

 

A smile tugged at Alec’s lips as he remembered her face when he had told her, a tight smile fixed in place on his own face. Izzy had never had big ambitions to take over an Institute, even if his sister could rule the world single-handed and look good doing it, but she had been so proud and excited. 

 

It had taken a minute for the implication to sink in, for Izzy to realise what gaining the position would mean for the three of them. Her face had dropped like a stone. She had been so proud one moment and crying the next. So he had assured her that it was meant to be, that she was destined to be a leader of men and pushed his own devastation aside, for her sake.

 

Packing up the few belongings that Izzy had accumulated throughout her life had been bittersweet, as had carrying it all through the portal to Izzy’s new home. Jace had quipped about Izzy being able to get a tan now that she lived somewhere hot, trying to make them all feel better about it but Izzy had spent thirty seconds bawling before she had managed to pull herself together. 

 

Izzy’s Institute was bigger than his own was, her team being ten strong, including her, but that was because it was one of the most important. The High Warlock reportedly lived in Madrid, even if his wards were strong enough for the Clave not to know exactly where Lorenzo Ray’s residence was positioned. Warlocks came and went through Madrid all of the time and it was now Izzy’s responsibility to keep them in line.

 

Pride once again flared up in Alec, a real smile lighting his face up. It might have been expected of him to take over one of the Institute’s one day but Jonathan had obviously recognised Izzy’s potential as a leader too and it warmed him to know that her hard work over the last… how-ever-many years had been rewarded with the position. Jace had jokingly grumbled about not being offered the position but his brother never really wanted it. Jace was more than happy with chasing Warlocks around Kraków

 

Alec looked down at his paperwork. It wasn’t even a choice, stay and complete it or spend some time with his sister. Grabbing a fresh piece of parchment, he dipped his quill in the ink pot on his desk and scrawled a quick message on it. Retrieving his stele from his pocket, he sent it, asking if she wanted some company for the evening.

 

It only took a moment for her reply to arrive,

 

**_Are you coming to tell me how to run an institute?_ **

 

Alec let a loud, genuine laugh escape him when he read the note that she had scribbled underneath his own, imagining the suspicious expression on her face as she had written it. 

 

**_No, I just miss you and I want to watch you rule over your Shadowhunters_ **

 

Alec scrawled back before sending it back to her. The wait for her reply took even less time than the first one. A grin spread over his face when he read it.

 

**_Bring ale!_ **

 

_ Well, that can be arranged, _ Alec thought. Dropping his quill and standing, he stretched out the kinks in his back and shoulders with a wince before moving to bank the fire that was the main source of light in the room. 

 

Closing his office door behind himself, Alec made his way through the dim, torchlit hallways of the old church that had been converted into an Institute, to the kitchens, noting how quiet the Institute was with only him and one other Shadowhunter manning the fort. Reaching the kitchens, he found said Shadowhunter.

 

“Coldwell, I’m heading over to Madrid to visit Izzy, are you okay looking after the place?” Alec asked, digging through a cupboard for a wineskin. In his opinion, Coldwell should have been offered the position when Knightblood had disappeared, the man had been there for as long as he could remember, never seeming to look any older. 

 

That thought slipped away, even as he thought it. It didn’t matter how old Coldwell was or that he didn’t seem to age. The position had been offered to Alec instead and that was all he needed to know.

 

“Of course, enjoy your night, Lightwood,” Coldwell said, giving Alec a nod as he brewed his tea leaves. “Crossford will be back from her patrol soon anyway,” he said before leaving Alec to it.

 

_ Enjoy your night, Lightwood,  _ Alec silently imitated as he found a wineskin and filled it from a jug of ale from the cold storage larder. Pushing the cork into the neck, he wandered back through the Institute, to the front doors, thinking about his childhood once more.

 

Coldwell and Knightblood had raised him, Izzy and Jace to be soldiers. It had been their lives since before he could remember and they had known no different but every now and then, he wondered what it would have been like to grow up with love instead of orders. 

 

Sure, the men had cared for them, in a sterile, emotions are for the weak, do better next time, kind of way. But there were no hugs, no pride shining in their eyes whenever a victory was attained, no sympathy when failure had occurred.

 

“Shadowhunters are cold-hearted bastards sometimes,” Alec muttered as he pulled the old church doors closed and took his stele out. At least he had had his siblings for hugs and emotional support. Using his stele to create a portal, he watched it spin to life before pushing it out and stepping through it, heading for Madrid.

 

Stepping out into the warm night, feeling the faint, warm breeze brush over his face, Alec took a deep breath. Madrid was a hell of a lot warmer than Kraków, that was for sure. Thankful that he hadn’t grabbed a coat to go over his leather doublet and leggings, he turned for the church, following the rocky path that led to the isolated Madrid Institute, nestled in the foothills of the Guadarrama mountains. 

 

It was a bit of a walk, having had to portal outside of the wards that surrounded the church but he didn’t mind, the moonlight lit the path well enough and Alec’s night vision had always been excellent. It was nice just to have a moment alone anyway.

 

Alec was so busy enjoying the solitude, that he didn’t have time stop or to pull a Seraph blade from its scabbard at his hip when a portal opened directly before him. Unable to stop his forward motion, he collided with the man that stepped from it, dropping his wineskin and grabbing onto the man instead, to stay on his feet. 

 

The scent that wrapped around Alec had his body seizing up and his lungs almost collapsing. Those reactions were nothing compared to what the scent had done to his knees. The scent of sandalwood and pure, beautiful Omega was all-consuming, shuddering through him and almost driving him to his knees. It had his eyes slamming closed and his grip tightening.

 

Two things registered for Magnus when he stepped out of his portal. The first was that he had somehow taken a wrong turn.  _ This isn’t home,  _ flashed through his mind. That was where he had been heading when he had stepped through it and somehow, he had ended up on a rocky path in the middle of nowhere, being grabbed by someone.

 

The second thing that registered, for Magnus, was the stunning scent of Sandalwood and Alpha. “My Alpha!” snapped out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think of the words, his eyes slamming closed as he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with it. 

 

The grip, tightening on Magnus’ arms, should have had him lashing out with his magic, the touch so unexpected but it didn’t. Because the touch felt right, down to the very depths of his soul, as though the strong hands that were wrapped around the tops of his arms had been made for that spot. 

 

Alec’s eyes snapped open at the words, his own brain screaming,  _ my Omega,  _ at him. This man that he had literally walked into was his Omega, of that, he had no doubt. Searching the face before him, barely a few inches from his own, his eyes widened.  _ Beautiful! _

 

Alec’s eyes raked over every inch, his breath coming in sporadic bursts as he looked at the face; small, triangular eyebrows, that had risen in surprise, defined cheekbones, small, sweet looking lips, a clean-shaven, strong jaw, but for a moustache and goatee, and brown eyes that were lined. The most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

 

The eyes of his mate, staring back at him, just as confused and shocked as his own.  _ But I never wanted a mate,  _ paraded through Alec’s mind. The thought was ridiculous. Just thinking of taking a mate had always turned his stomach and yet, his hands refused to let go.

 

Magnus stared into the hazel eyes that kept flicking over his face before meeting his gaze, again and again. The perfect arch of the two eyebrows above them kept distorting, jumping up and down in a dance that would have been funny if they hadn’t conveyed the man’s confusion, wonder and surprise. All of the same things that were coursing through him.

 

“Who are you?” Alec asked, consumed by the feeling that he already knew this complete stranger. It wasn’t just a feeling, a suspicion, he knew it, knew that they had met before. Why would his soul recognise the man before his eyes did, if that wasn’t the case?

 

“Magnus Bane,” Magnus managed to utter as a wave of dizziness swept through him, stealing the last of the strength from his legs. They went boneless, leaving him no other option than to sag into the man’s hold. Reaching out, he gripped onto the leather of the man’s doublet as his legs went from beneath him.

 

Alec swept Magnus up into his arms and lowered them both, his own legs weren’t so steady. Sitting on the ground, he held the Omega close to him, unable to bear the thought of letting go. Deja vu rocked through him, his breath catching as an image of another time when he had sunk to the ground with this man in front of him, filled his mind. 

 

Trying to shake the image off, blinking his eyes hard, Alec’s deja vu turned to dizziness as an array of similar images filled his head, other times when they had sat down together. In front of a fire pit, surrounded by others. On a couch with the man straddling him, naked and crying. On the edge of a cliff under the stars.

 

“What is your name?” Magnus asked, his grip tightening on the man’s doublet as the name,  _ Alec,  _ floated into his mind, watching from behind closed eyes as the name fell from plump lips, in another time, a different location. The name appeared a split-second before his Alpha spoke it. 

 

“Alec Lightwood,” Alec murmured, watching his Omega’s eyebrows tug down in confusion before Magnus’ eyes snapped open once more. The lost expression on Magnus’ face had more images coming, other times when Magnus had been confused like that; on a mountainside. In a room made of wood, next to a table filled with ingredients. Looking at him as he held a small child in his arms. “I don’t understand,” he muttered, trying to sort through the images.

 

“Why… how do I know you?” Magnus asked, his face heating up as other images came. Maybe it was because of Alec’s deep, panting breaths, so close to his face, but he shuddered when they filled his head; Alec, lying beneath him, wrapped around him, pushing into him. Strong hands and soft lips and tight grips on his waist. Hot, ragged breaths, burning a trail over his skin. Low, gravelly whispers and loud moans. All of it fought for ground, making the rest of him heat up too.

 

“Have we… met before?” Alec asked, wondering why he was even asking. The images must be memories, they had to be because it wasn’t just pictures, in his head. It was scents, tastes, sounds, the sensation of fingers, sweeping over his skin, and lips, lingering on his own. It was the texture of hair under his fingers and the heat of another body, pressed against his own. It was the feeling of home.

 

“Home... Magnus…?” Alec choked out, his gut lurching and heart taking off. The realisation of who the man, practically wrapped around him, was, made him go cold. This was his mate. “Magnus…” he whispered, staring into brown eyes, watching them turn amber as the same realisation dawned on Magnus.

 

Magnus’ glamour faded as memories started to flood him. Not the sweet, if not confusing, images from before. Other memories, memories of fighting, swords, feathers, punishments. Wings.

 

“Oh God, Alexander,” Magnus choked out as it all coalesced into one image. Alec, blinding white wings spread wide with one black and bronze feather, gleaming in the light.

 

“But I just found you,” Alec said when another memory rose up, blotting all of the others out. Darkness. This had happened before, he had met Magnus another time, finding him again after being apart for so long. And after, when the cold fire had consumed him from within, there had been nothing. Nothing but darkness, lonely and fear-inducing. The same cold fire was already starting.

 

“Not again,” Magnus murmured, staring when Alec’s eyes and runes started to glow, trying to ingrain the image of it in his mind once more, even if fear and loss were the prevailing emotions that were stamped all over Alec’s face. “I’ve missed this face more than I realised,” he said, the words almost a whisper as he clutched Alec’s face between his hands.

 

“I love you,” Alec said, pulling Magnus to him, tight to his chest, not ready to let go. He would never be ready to let go. Slamming his lips to Magnus’, he tried not to think of the bright, fiery glow of his mate, only wanting to feel.

 

“I love you too,” Magnus said between kisses, closing his eyes on the image of his Alpha, glowing impossibly brightly in the dark night, letting his lips tell Alec how much he loved him. A choked sob escaped when he fell forward, the lips that had felt so solid and vital against his own, just a moment before, were now gone.

 

Magnus didn’t have the strength to look up as the fire consumed him, as it had last time. Knowing that Alec would be gone, he didn’t want to. The fire took him, burning throughout him, from his core, until he landed on the ground with a thud, the air being knocked from his lungs.

 

The sound of two other loud grunting thuds snapped Magnus from the misery that was trying to consume him as the fire had. Looking up, his eyes widened when they landed on Clary and Simon, the cry that he had been trying to hold back escaping when he saw their confused, scared expressions.

 

“Where are… what happened?” Clary asked, staring around the room that she had somehow landed in, dragged away from the bed she had just been climbing into. A sob built in the back of her throat when all memories of the place slammed into her head, all in one go, along with the reason why she would be there.

 

“But… but… I don’t understand,” Simon shouted, his head snapping around to take in the room, Asmodeus’ throne room. “Why am I here? I didn’t get to see her,” he cried, a pit opening up in his stomach. 

 

“Simon… what do you mean?” Magnus asked, climbing shakily to his feet and looking around his father’s empty throne room before moving to pull Simon to his feet. It was Clary who answered his question.

 

“I never found Jace, I never got to see him. I was just climbing into bed when the fire consumed me,” Clary said, plucking helplessly at her voluminous white nightgown as tears began to spill down her cheeks.  _ I never even got to see him. _

 

“I was still on my mission,” Simon said, his voice warring between desolation and an angry snarl. The fire had consumed him without warning, snatching him away from the Shadowhunter he had been following through the streets of Amsterdam.

 

Magnus stared at his friends, not knowing what to say to them. Hadn’t his father said that they would reset whenever they met their mates? Why had Clary and Simon been brought back if they hadn’t met their mates? Had Izzy and Jace also been reset?

 

“Oh God, do you think something happened to Jace? What if he died and that’s why I’m here?” Clary sobbed, frantically trying to push the images of Jace dying, from her mind.

 

“What about Izzy?” Simon asked, wrapping his arms around his stomach, his eyes darting around the room, searching for what, he didn’t know. Maybe just a way to get back to the mortal realm to find his mate.

 

“Your father, he might know,” Magnus said, taking Clary’s hands in his own when he saw the desperate fear in her eyes. The throne room was empty, he didn’t know where his father was but he didn’t want to waste time looking, the longer Asmodeus was unaware of their presence, the more time they would have there. 

 

“Portal to your parent's house and ask him, he might have answers,” Magnus said, nodding his head when Clary’s head snapped up. “Spend as much time with them as you can before Asmodeus realises we are here,” he said.

 

With a nod, Clary opened a portal. She hadn’t even had a chance to see them last time they had returned and her desperation to know what had happened to Jace plus the need for her mother had her dashing through it.

 

“Come on, quickly,” Magnus said, grabbing Simon’s arm and tugging him towards the doors. Poking his head out into the hallway, he dashed across it when he saw that it was empty and pulled Simon through one of the secret passageway entrances, the one closest to the throne room.

 

Simon followed Magnus through the passages, a numbness threading through his veins, he hadn’t even gotten to see her, to hold his mate in his arms. And what was worse, was that he didn’t even know if she was alive. He clutched Magnus’ sleeve when pain ripped into his stomach. It was inconceivable, she couldn't be dead, surely he would know, would have felt it if the other half of his soul had died?

 

Magnus pushed through the door into his old quarters, stopping in his tracks when a scent that he didn’t recognise slammed into him like a wall. It was almost strong enough to make his eyes water, the scent of fuschias and Omega permeating the air.

 

“What is that?” Simon asked, his head snapping around for the source of the scent as he followed Magnus into his old living room. The scent of his mother and sister, mixed in with the heady scent, confused him.

 

Magnus’ stomach lurched when he realised what it was. Elaine and Becky’s scents lingered in his living room, if there was also this new scent, there could only be one other person that it belonged to and judging by the strength of it, they had arrived while his daughter was in heat.

 

Magnus eyed Simon for a moment before shaking himself off, questioning why he would even be looking at his friend.  _ Paternal instinct,  _ his brain supplied. Simon was no threat to his daughter. Making his way through the living room, he emerged into the hallway with Simon at his heels, finding Elaine, coming out of the guest washroom.

 

Elaine’s eyes widened when she saw her son and Magnus, the damp cloth that she was holding, falling to the floor, forgotten in her shock. It only took a second for Simon to dash across the hallway before she was in his arms, her shock giving way to relief. She sank into his embrace, clinging to him and taking in his orange blossom scent after so many years.

 

“Elaine, is Catarina…?” Magnus trailed off, not quite sure how to finish the question. It was impossible to him that his little girl was a woman, it literally felt like yesterday when he had been telling her bedtime stories, teaching her how to fly, digging out sleeping clothes for her and combing her hair. And now, he had missed out, again.

 

“Magnus, it’s so good to see you too,” Elaine said, pulling Magnus into a quick hug before summoning the cloth that she had dropped and cleaning it with her magic. “She presented as an Omega about a year after we last saw you. Becky is in with her now, should I see if she wants to see you?” she asked. 

 

“Please,” Magnus asked, desperate to see his daughter. Trying to think of how long he had been gone this time, he watched as Elaine poked her head through the door of Cat’s bedroom. 

 

“Cat, you have a visitor if you’re up to it,” Elaine said, nodding when Cat looked up at her, from a nest of blankets on her bed. Snapping her fingers, she dressed Cat in a loose robe when Cat only looked confused. Thankfully, Cat’s heat was passing, on the last day of it and the potions that Cat had brewed up had had a calming effect. Standing back, she gestured for Magnus to enter.

 

“Thank you, for looking after her. I’ll take it from here, spend some time with Simon,” Magnus said, squeezing Elaine’s hand as he took the cloth from her when he entered Cat’s room, giving Becky a quick nod when she darted past him, obviously having spotted her brother. The pit in his stomach widened when his eyes landed on his daughter, she looked tired and sweaty.

 

“Daddy?” Cat asked, staring at her father when he stood in the doorway, staring right back at her. The sad expression on his face had her fighting back tears, unsuccessfully. A sob burst from her, jolting him out of his revery. She sat up as he dashed forward, sinking into his side when he sat on her bed.

 

“I see you're not so little anymore, sweetheart,” Magnus said when he scooped his daughter up into his arms and wrapped them tightly around her. She looked similar to the age he and Alec both looked, in her late twenties, early thirties. Swiping the cool, damp cloth across her forehead, he followed it with a kiss, pressing his lips to her burning forehead.

 

“No matter how big I get, I’ll always need my dad,” Cat said, inhaling his scent, letting it calm her racing heart.  “So, heats really suck ass, huh?” she asked with a shaky laugh, wiping her face when Magnus let out a shaky laugh of his own.

 

“You could say that. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here when you presented. How do you feel about being an Omega?” Magnus asked as he wiped Cat’s face down, decidedly not thinking about the fact that his daughter could now take a mate and make him a grandfather, and also thinking of the fact that that was a very real possibility. 

 

The thoughts had Magnus’ stomach lurching. Would he miss out on grandchildren too? Would Alec?  _ At least I get to have these small reprieves with her, Alexander doesn't even get that. _

 

“It isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, apart from the heats. I hate those but I’m fine with it, I’m used to it,” Cat said, she had been having them for a long time now. They weren’t as bad as Magnus and Clary’s heats had been all of those years ago. “I’m 44,” she said when she saw the question in Magnus’ eyes. 

 

“I’m so sorry that we have missed out on so much, little one,” Magnus said, smiling when Cat shook her head at the old name, it didn’t feel so old to him, even if he had lived a lifetime in between visits. “No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my little girl,” he said, with a smile.

 

“Touche,” Cat said. Her eyes fell closed when Magnus magically cooled the cloth down and wiped her face again, enjoying the all too brief respite from the sweat that coated her skin. Thanking Lilith that her heat was almost over, she turned to look at Magnus once more. “How was my father? Did you get to spend much time together?” she asked hopefully.

 

“Not nearly enough. No amount of time will be enough with him,” Magnus said, deciding to tell her the truth. Even if it might be a burden to her, Cat was old enough for him not to sugarcoat the truth anymore. “But he looked good. Actually, he looked amazing. What about you? Do you have anyone lined up for a mate?” he asked, not entirely sure if he wanted to know the answer.

 

“I have no intentions of taking a mate,” Cat said, giving her dad a tight smile. The confused, surprised expression on Magnus’ face had her clarifying. “I don’t have time to take a mate, I’m too busy,” she said with a shake of her head.

 

“With Asmodeus’ heir business? Where is he, anyway?” Magnus asked, fighting the growl that was starting to build in the back of his throat. The idea of Asmodeus, trying to use his daughter as some sort of political pawn, still made his blood boil.

 

“He is taking a tour of the Edomite mines. And no, it has nothing to do with his ridiculous notion of me being his heir. I have been too busy with trying to break yours and father’s curse,” Cat said, trying not to think of how her search for answers had stalled almost a year ago. “It is time-consuming,” she said when she saw the question on his face.

 

“What do you mean?” Magnus asked, staring down at his daughter. The determination, stamped all over her face had pride welling up, even if he was confused as hell.

 

“Come on, I have something to show you,” Cat said, fighting the effects of her potion to drag herself from her bed. Tightening the robe around herself, even if it felt rough and coarse against her sweaty skin, she stretched her aching joints out before shuffling from her room.

 

Magnus followed, intrigued when Cat led him to his old bedroom. The sight that greeted him, when Cat pushed the door open, had his eyes widening. “What’s all this?” he asked, his eyes raking over the pictures and pieces of parchment that were held in place against the walls with what he assumed was magic. There were lists upon lists, books, crumpled bits of parchment everywhere.

 

“Asmodeus would lose his shit if he came in here and saw all of this but this is my research. Luckily for me, you were his greatest disappointment and he refuses to even come to your quarters,” Cat grinned, gesturing around. 

 

“Research?” Magnus asked, inspecting the closest list to the door. It was a list of well-known demons from the realm. Turning on the spot, he raised his eyebrows in question.

 

“It took me twelve years but I read every single book on both of Asmodeus’ libraries and all of the ones that he had stashed in his quarters. Every single word, trying to find any information about your curse, about angels, about what happens when you return to the mortal realm. I discovered nothing,” Cat said bitterly.

 

“Twelve years…” Magnus trailed off, his eyes boggling. Cat had spent twelve years of her life searching through his father’s books, to save him and Alec from their fate. Taking Cat in his arms, he brushed his fingers through her hair, his gut clenching. Their daughter was something else!

 

“When Asmodeus’ libraries failed me, I sought out other demons, other libraries, combing through them too. I found the odd mentions of angels, of previous battles with The Host but never anything about curses,” Cat said, wrapping her arms around Magnus’ waist and holding on tightly.

 

“My search came to a grinding halt about a year ago. I haven’t been able to search every library in the realm yet but I’m still working on it. There are too many demons that are scared of incurring Asmodeus’ wrath. I’m working on convincing them to help me though,” Cat mumbled into Magnus’ neck, inhaling his scent and filling her lungs with it as she spoke, to keep her going until the next time.

 

“My darling girl, I’m so proud of you, for trying to help us and I will be eternally grateful but please, please don’t forget to live your own life too. You will miss out on so much if you devote yourself to this and don’t leave time to stop and enjoy life every once in a while,” Magnus said, tugging Cat's head out from his neck. 

 

“You have to live for yourself. What is the point of an eternity if you don’t stop to enjoy the moments that make it up, hm?” Magnus asked, looking into Cat’s determined eyes.

 

“What is the point of an eternity if you can’t share it with your family?” Cat asked, looking up into Magnus’ eyes. “You don’t understand what you did for me, do you? What you and father both did for me. I would have died, or been dragged back to some random realm for Lilith knows what, if it wasn’t for the loving home that I found in you both,” she said, fighting the lump in her throat.

 

“You are my dads, would you give up on searching for a way to free me after a measly twenty-seven years if I was the one that was cursed?” Cat asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips when Magnus just shook his head. 

 

“Of course you wouldn’t, that’s what family does. And, it’s not just you, it’s aunt Iz and uncle Simon, aunt Clary and uncle Jace too. They don’t deserve this fate either. I want to free all of you,” Cat said with a shrug.  _ I can enjoy my life when we are all back together again.  _

 

“Well then, maybe we can help you?” Magnus asked, wanting to give her all of the help that he could if she was going to insist on finding a way to free them. Even if his knowledge was limited. Snapping his fingers, he produced a piece of parchment and quickly sent a fire message to Clary.

 

“Simon, get your ass in here, we need to help Catarina,” Magnus yelled as he began to study Cat’s notes. “It is a fire message,” he said when he noticed Cat’s curious stare. “You use magic to write whatever your message entails and then send it to the person you want to reach. You have to envision them in your mind and then push the message to them with your magic.”

 

Cat had never heard of a fire message but was eager to try it. Summoning a scrap of parchment of her own, she copied what Magnus had done, branding the words she wanted to say, with fire, onto the parchment before focusing her magic and pushing the note to Magnus.

 

Magnus snatched the note out of the air, his stomach flopping with pride for his daughter, she always was a quick study. The flopping of his stomach tightened into a squeeze when he read the message;

 

**_I miss you more than words can say but I will never give up hope_ **

 

The note was charred and frayed, pretty much like the fragments of Magnus’ life but it made his heart soar like the wings that he used to have.

 

“I miss you too, sweetheart,” Magnus said, taking Cat’s hand in his own as Simon, Becky, Elaine, Clary, Jocelyn and Valentine all traipsed into the room. Valentine’s presence surprised him the most, even if he chose not to comment out loud. The scared, desperate expressions on Clary and Simon’s faces had him jerking his head.

 

“Clary, Simon, are you okay?” Cat asked, taking a turn in hugging each of them when they dashed forward. The desolation on their faces had a pit opening up in her stomach.

 

Magnus summoned a bunch of chairs and explained what had happened, gripping Cat’s hand tightly in his own when her expression wavered between disbelief, desperation, anger and sadness. 

 

“Simon asked me if I thought that Izzy was dead, I don’t think she is. Nor do I think Jace is,” Elaine said, looking to Clary and Simon as she remembered her darkest days. “The pain of losing your mate is a physical thing. It would have been the most painful experience of your lives. A part of your soul would have died along with them. That isn’t something that you just get up from. It took centuries for me to get over losing mine, I’m not sure that I ever will and we weren’t fated mates. I could only imagine that it would be worse for you.”

 

“Clary has also just spent the last twenty minutes grilling us for anything we know about your banishment,” Valentine said, watching Cat take up a piece of charcoal and start taking notes. “There isn’t a lot that we can tell you. We don’t know why you would all be “reset” if you hadn’t met your mates,” he said, looking specifically to Clary and Simon.

 

“Elaine explained to us what had happened after your last visit but neither of us has ever heard of this reset before,” Jocelyn said, gripping Clary’s hand tightly. “Before we were banished to this realm, there were only a handful of angels that were ever punished for mating a demon and The Host were forbidden from seeking them out.”

 

“Of course, no demon ever bothered to go looking for their fellow demons to see what had become of them. Why would they?” Valentine asked with a shrug, unable to comprehend why a demon would care about another demon.

 

“When are you going to accept that you are a demon now?” Elaine asked, rolling her eyes at Clary’s ridiculous father. The loss of their children had pushed them to spend more time together, strengthening the tenuous acquaintanceship that they had established over the centuries and making friends of the three of them. She found that she rather liked Jocelyn and Valentine wasn’t too bad when he wasn’t complaining about demons.

 

Cat ignored the squabbling that descended upon Valentine and Elaine as she scribbled furiously, adding the new information to her research. It might not have been an answer but it was fresh information and it lit a fire under her ass that she hadn’t had in a while now.  _ At least I have something new to research!  _

 

“None of us even wanted mates when we were growing up and now we don’t know what is happening to them. Stop arguing and help us!” Clary said, cutting her father and Elaine off with a thinly disguised growl. The eye roll that Becky gave her was exactly how she felt.

 

“Growing up?” Cat asked, pausing in her feverish scribbles as her head snapped up. “What do you mean, “growing up”?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, the expression matching Elaine, Jocelyn and Valentine’s expressions.

 

“We were raised by the High Warlock,” Magnus said, flicking through his memories of their childhood. “Lorenzo brought the three of us up, from… I can’t remember how old we were. The first memory I have of this life is of Simon setting fire to Lorenzo’s curtains with his magic when we were…” he trailed off, looking to Simon.

 

“Three? Four?” Simon asked, straining to remember anything from before that time and failing. “The “reset” must be exactly that, we reverted into children when we went back,” he said with a groan. “Mother of demons, don’t tell me we are going to have to go through puberty, again and again,” he said, raking his hand over his face.

 

“Who is this Lorenzo? And why does he think he has the right to raise our children?” Jocelyn snarled, grabbing Clary and pulling her onto her lap, uncaring that her daughter was a fully grown woman. “Did he ever mistreat you? Because I will find him and wring his neck,” she said.

 

“No, he didn’t mistreat us. I don’t know how, the three of us were a nightmare. We made his life a misery,” Clary grinned, letting her mother bury her face in her neck.

 

“Why didn’t any of you ever want mates?” Becky asked, looking from Simon to Clary to Magnus. “Was it because you already had your mate’s feathers in your own wings? Did you feel the connection with them the whole time?” she asked.

 

“We… don’t have wings anymore, they were taken from us when we fell,” Magnus said around the lump in his throat. Opening his arms wide, he wrapped them around Cat when she climbed into his lap, smiling a tight smile for the others when he saw their furious, horrified expressions.

 

“It’s so unfair! Did the angels take everything from you when they punished you?” Cat asked, devastated that her dad’s wings were gone. “Did they take father’s wings too? And Jace and Izzy’s?” she asked, pushing her face into Magnus’ neck to inhale his calming sandalwood scent.

 

“I don’t know, probably,” Magnus said, rubbing soothing circles into Cat’s back. The thought of Alec, losing his beautiful wings, was worse than his own loss. The pain that filled him from their loss was worse than any curse that could have been cast upon them. 

 

“We didn’t lose that connection though, I don’t think. I was repulsed by the thought of ever taking a mate,” Simon said, looking around at the group. “It must have been her, Isabelle. The thought of taking anyone else was too much to bear.”

 

“When I met Alexander in this life, the pull was strong, even stronger than the first time. We must still be connected, even if we don’t have the feathers to connect us anymore,” Magnus said. They had not only joined their bodies when they had mated but their souls too. Even if the physical aspect of their bond was gone, nobody could take the spiritual aspect away.

 

“Of course you are still joined, you saw to that when you betrayed your own species in order to take Alexander as your mate,” Asmodeus said from the doorway, glaring around when everyone jumped. “What a lovely meeting you are all having here, shame, I must have missed my invite,” he said, striding into the room.

 

“I’m sorry to cut your little reunion short but as you dropped by unannounced, you can all leave,” Asmodeus said, glaring around the room, his eyes narrowing further as he took in the parchment and books that were scattered around the room. 

 

Magnus would have gone for his father’s throat if Asmodeus hadn’t raised his hand in that instant. “I love you,” he whispered to Cat, gripping her tightly as Asmodeus condemned them once more and ripped him away from his daughter.

 

Cat held on as long as she possibly could but her grip was no good compared to Asmodeus’ magic. A snarl ripped from her when she thudded down into the chair as her father disappeared once more.

 

“You can leave too,” Asmodeus roared at Valentine and Jocelyn, raising an eyebrow at them when Valentine snarled at him, holding Jocelyn back. “Don’t forget who’s realm you live in. you are here, by my grace and I could just as easily banish the two of you. I suggest you control yourselves if you ever want the chance of seeing your daughter again. There’s always next time,” he said, turning his back on them.

 

“What kind of a father are you?” Jocelyn shouted at Asmodeus’ back as her mate pulled her towards the door. 

 

“The kind who doesn’t take well to his subjects plotting behind his back. Now leave,” Asmodeus roared, pushing them from the room with his magic before turning on Cat. “And as for you, this ends now. Don’t think I don’t know what you have been up to all of these years. There is no breaking this curse so just give it up!” he said, snapping his fingers before turning on his heel.  _ Did they really think they could portal in and out of my home without me noticing? _

 

A low growl burst from Cat when Asmodeus sent all of her research up in a mess of flames, tears spilling down her face as she watched it burn. Accepting Elaine and Becky’s comforting embraces, she sank into them, staring at the piles of ash that started forming from the work she had put in over the last twenty-seven years.

 

“If he thinks I didn’t memorise every single word, he has another thing coming,” Cat snarled. “I’m not giving up that easily,” she said. She knew every bit of research by heart and now, she had new information to go on.  _ I’ll just have to begin again! _

  
  


**

 

**_Madrid_ **

 

Lorenzo strode down the side of the crater, blankets in hand, shaking his head the entire way. Upon reaching the three screaming, naked babies who lay at the centre of it, he inspected them with pursed lips.

 

“If you three think that I am raising your ungrateful asses again, you can think again. One lifetime was more than enough. I think a little trip to France is in order. Close enough to keep an eye on you all but not close enough that I have to deal with you,” Lorenzo muttered as he flicked his wrist, magically lifting Clary, Magnus and Simon, and wrapping them in the blankets.

 

Lorenzo gathered the three screaming babies into his arms and headed back for his portal, changing the exit point completely.  _ Paris will do nicely. And Lilith help your guardians.  _ He thought as he stepped through the portal to deliver the baby Warlocks to their next life.

 

**

 

**_Idris_ **

  
  


“The three of you outdid yourselves. Not only do I need to find a new Head for the Kraków Institute, but now I have to find one for Madrid too!” Jonathan muttered, shaking his head at Alec, Jace and Izzy.

 

“And you had so much potential as a leader, Isabelle,” Jonathan said as he quickly knelt down and used his stele to mark each of them with their angelic runes before wrapping each child up in a blanket.

 

A portal, opening behind him, had Jonathan turning. Giving Carstairs a nod, when the Shadowhunter stepped from it, he handed the children over.

 

“This is Alec Jace and Izzy, take them back to the Virginian Institute with you,” Jonathan said, giving the Shadowhunter a nod when Carstairs looked up at him in surprise. “Raise them well. And keep them close,” he said, silently adding that they had a knack for getting into trouble. 

 

_ The other side of the world should be far enough away.  _ Jonathan thought as he watched Carstairs juggle the three babies to step back through his portal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I will be using well-known Shadowhunter names in these chapters. As much as I know characters like Emma, Julian, Will, Jem and Tessa are beloved characters, I have only ever read the TMI series and that was only once. I don't know enough about those characters to do them justice so if you see the name Herondale or Carstairs, etc, I am not referring to them.


	3. 1678

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I'm back to grovel for forgiveness. I had a hard time writing this one. I sat with 3k words staring at me for 10 days, unable to write anything, it was a serious case of writer's block. Then yesterday and today, it snapped into place and I managed to add another 10k words to it. I've been having some issues with underage readers reading and commenting on my work and it knocked me, I'm not gonna lie. We all know that my work isn't for kids but they ignore the warnings anyway. It kind of put me off a bit. But I'm back. I'll try not to be away so long for the next one. Thanks for sticking with me.

**_Paris_ **

  
  


Clary looked herself over in the floor-length mirror in her bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she waved her hand and tightened the strings of her corset, dragging her waist in and pushing her breasts up, revealing a scandalous amount of flesh before tying the strings off and letting the breath out.

 

Snapping her fingers, she summoned the ball gown from her canopied bed and waved her hands in a complicated pattern, letting the material settle over the top of her plethora of pettiskirts and crinolines, bloomers, bustle, and corset, shaking her head at her appearance. 

 

“These mundanes come up with the worst fashions,” Clary muttered to herself, settling the material around the tops of her shoulder and smoothing her hands over the silk of her ball gown. The light blue material of the gown looked nice with her pale skin tone, she conceded, but the peach ruffled three quarter length sleeves were already giving her nightmares.  

 

“Who needs to breathe anyway?” she asked herself as her lungs constricted. Feeling entirely too old and tired, even if she looked young, she fastened her hair atop her head, long spirals spilling down her back and over her left shoulder to reach her waist, her look was complete. Almost.

 

Rolling the aches in her shoulders out and reminding herself to ask Lorenzo for a new batch of the potion that he had invented to combat them, Clary snatched up the matching blue silk mask that finished her look off. Turning on her heels, she strode from the room, meandering through the rooms of her Parisian apartment to find her friends, waiting for her in the hallway. 

 

A loud laugh burst from her when she saw Simon, the same reaction that she had every time she saw him dressed the way he was. She couldn’t help herself.

 

“One word, Fray, and I will curse you to live the rest of your days without any hair,” Simon said, waving his fingers threateningly in Clary’s direction.  

 

Clary fought to keep her laughter in, her eyes raking over Simon’s long curly brown wig, the long, midnight blue coat, fastened from neck to knee with pearl buttons and the grey hose he was wearing. It wouldn’t have been so bad... if it wasn’t for the lacey white ruffles at his neck and wrists, or the huge matching bows on his heeled shoes.

 

“I don’t know what you are complaining about, Simon, you look so handsome,” Magnus swooned, batting his eyelashes at his friend as he pinched Simon’s rouged cheeks. “At least it isn’t brown!”

 

“Yeah? And I don’t know what you’re laughing at, you are wearing the same thing as me,” Simon growled, batting Magnus’ hand away when Magnus and Clary burst into laughter once more. It was the same every time and just like all of the other times, he endured it with poor grace.

 

“Yes, but I look good,” Magnus said, waving his hands with a flourish over his own long coat, a beautiful blend of indigo and violet silk with just as many beads and ruffles as Simon’s outfit, his own black wig just as long and curly and the rouge on his cheeks and lips even more pronounced than Simon’s.

 

“You both look good,” Clary said, fixing her mask to her face with a flick of her wrist, watching Magnus and Simon do the same. “Are you ready?” she asked, her eyes flicking to Magnus and Simon, seeing the sad shakes of their heads. She felt the same way. But duty called. Waving her hand, she created a portal and took the arms that Simon and Magnus offered her.

 

“I don’t know why we couldn’t just meet him in Versailles. It is a waste of time going to Madrid, to meet him, only to come back to France,” Clary muttered, staring at the portal and wishing more than anything that she could just shut it down, strip her gown away and fall into bed to at least try and get a good night’s sleep.

 

“Sure, because Lorenzo would just love missing the opportunity to make a grand entrance. Along with a case of haemorrhoids and the chance to confront the Shadowhunters himself with his own magic and everything,” Magnus muttered with an eye roll, making Clary laugh.

 

“Tell me again why we have to attend this masquerade ball?” Simon muttered when they all stepped out into Lorenzo’s palace in Madrid, already tugging at the uncomfortable blue mask on his eyes, trying to get it to sit right, it was going to be a long night.

 

“Because Lorenzo feels the need to shove his nose up the ass of any dignitary that looks his way,” Magnus muttered, glaring at the ridiculous amount of gold gilt that Lorenzo decorated his palace with. “And heaven forbid he shouldn’t take beautiful people with him,” he added in a near whisper as Lorenzo flounced out of his throne room, wearing an identical outfit to those of Simon and Magnus, Lorenzo’s garments a deep russet colour.

 

“It is like we are nothing but a travelling circus, his main attraction. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him, he hates us but he wants to parade us around in front of the mundanes like an accoutrement to be pulled out, only to impress his mundane friends,” Clary muttered as Lorenzo approached them. 

 

The High Warlock had actually said that to them, that he wanted to take them with him because “royalty fawn over beautiful people”. They weren’t the only ones, Lorenzo paraded all of the Warlocks out on a regular basis, they just happened to be the ones who lived in Paris.

 

“On time for once!” Lorenzo said when he reached the trio of Warlocks. Eyeing their outfits, he gave them a nod, satisfied that they had made the proper efforts. “Clary, my dear. A small trinket to really make you shine,” he said, snapping his fingers.

 

Clary’s fingers played over the cold pearl necklace that had settled around her neck, internally cringing at the smarmy tone Lorenzo had used. It almost sounded like he actually liked her. The smug expression on his face made her want to take a swing at it.  _ Make you shine, more like,  _ she thought with a shudder when Lorenzo took her arm and linked it through the crook of his elbow, holding onto her hand. 

 

Simon elbowed Magnus in the ribs, hiding his smirk behind his hand when Clary pleaded for help at them over her shoulder, her expression soon turning to a glare. Seeing his own amusement, mirrored on Magnus’ face, he grabbed Magnus’ arm and stuffed it into the crook of his elbow, both of them flouncing after Clary and Lorenzo.

 

“A trinket to make you shine, my pretty,” Magnus muttered under his breath, mocking Lorenzo’s tone, eliciting a loud snort from Simon as they imitated Lorenzo’s pretentious glide down the hallway.

 

“I swear, if you embarrass me in front of His Majesty, I will banish you to the depths of the Spiral Labyrinth,” Lorenzo muttered over his shoulder, not needing to look to know that Simon and Magnus were fooling around behind his back. “You will behave in a manner that befits the occasion,” he said, waving an arm.

 

“Yes, my Lord,” Magnus mocked when Lorenzo and Clary stepped through the portal that Lorenzo had created. “How many more of these functions do you think he will drag us to?” he asked Simon as they followed.

 

“Every single one that any King ever hosts?” Simon suggested as they stepped out into the gardens of Chateau de Versailles, home to King Louis XIV. Following in Lorenzo’s wake, to the grand double doors of the palace, he thought about their lives.

 

It had been a series of soirees and parties held by the royalty of various countries around the world. Simon wasn’t sure if Lorenzo actually wanted anything from the leaders of the mundane world or if the gatherings that he dragged them to were just to bolster the High Warlock’s already high opinion of himself. 

 

Simon had never found an actual purpose for the visits with the heads of state but had spent many a night or weekend in various palaces and country houses. They had been paraded in front of the mundanes like prize horses, displayed for the world to see. And they had somehow managed to pick titles up along the way.

 

Magnus wondered what the mundane Kings and Queens would say if they ever found out that none of them were actually Lords or Ladies. 

 

Watching Lorenzo present their invitations to the footmen at the door, Magnus prepared himself for another night of greeting crazy mundanes, drinking, dancing and the obligatory groping that was sure to ensue. The confusing array of scents was already giving him a headache, from the reported two hundred guests that were in attendance, he couldn’t see the night getting any better, they hadn’t even made it all of the way inside yet.

 

It was a shame that Magnus didn’t really feel like spending his evening with the powerful and influential people that made up the aristocracy of France. But then again, did he ever?  If the soirees were enjoyable, it could have been a short reprieve from the days of boredom and the nights of loneliness that had become their lives. Except that they never were. 

 

Magnus thought of how best to deflect the offers that would surely roll in all night as he and Simon followed Lorenzo and Clary up a pretentiously grand staircase. They all received the offers, from men and women both. The royalty of France was notoriously lax when it came to societal propriety, something that he might enjoy if it didn’t make his skin crawl to think of actually taking any of them up on their offers.

 

All three of them had questioned if there was something wrong with them, Magnus mused as he crested the top of the staircase, looking down into the large ballroom at the foot of the staircase at the end of the balcony that they had arrived on, waiting to be announced. 

 

They had all spent years questioning why none of them ever wanted to take a mate. It wasn’t kept a secret that all Warlocks were either Alphas, Betas or Omegas, nor was the physiological side of what that entailed. He and Clary went through crazy, desperate heats, after all. Finding out that all Warlocks felt the same, however, they had put their questions to bed as young adults. Magnus still sometimes wondered though, usually before a headache sprung up.  

 

Clary descended the stairs on Lorenzo’s arm when Lord Rey and Lady Fray were announced, already planning her escape. Maybe even putting up with the lingering glances and hidden whispers were better than having to spend the evening listening to Lorenzo brag about his associations with the various courts around the world, to anyone who would listen.

 

Of course, it was just Clary’s luck that Lorenzo tightened his grip and steered her through the crowd of nobility, making a beeline for the king himself. Upon reaching the King, following protocol, Clary pulled her arm from Lorenzo's grip and took two handfuls of her voluminous skirts, curtseying low whilst staring at the floor. Noting Lorenzo, Magnus and Simon’s low bow’s, she waited for the King to speak before rising.

 

“Lady Fray, looking as beautiful as ever! And Lords Rey, Lewis and Bane, we are honoured you could all make it this evening,” King Louis said, gesturing for them all to rise.

 

“The honour is ours, Your Majesty,” Clary said as she rose, standing with her spine erect and pulling her most gracious smile on. Letting her eyes flick left, she dipped her head to Queen Maria Theresa, a genuine smile for the woman gracing her lips before returning her attention to the king. 

 

“Congratulations on the removal of the city walls from Paris. How goes the building of Les Invalides?” Clary asked, settling in for small talk. The smile that lit up the King’s face told her that she had chosen the correct topic of conversation. It was shaping up to be a long night but at least the king's development of Paris, even if he despised the city, was a better alternative to listening to Lorenzo.

 

Simon did his best to pay attention to the conversation, decidedly not looking at the cousins, Duke and Lady Montpelier. They were both trying to catch his eye from the near corner of the room, sending a shiver down his spine. It was no secret that familial ties never stood in the way of a torrid romance, in the king's court. Most were discreet about it, however. Not these two. They had propositioned him more times than he cared to count over the last three or four years.

 

“Why are they so creepy?” Magnus asked under his breath, watching the cousins. Sure, they were both beautiful, and many had taken them up on their offers, but they were like a couple of predators. “And obvious?” he added, fighting his eyebrow when the man slung his arm over the woman’s shoulder and practically cupped her breast.

 

“I don’t know, but I’m going to have to spend the night avoiding them again, aren’t I?” Simon asked, shuffling a little closer to Magnus as the couple stared at him like he was a plate of meat. He was pretty sure they were about to start licking their lips.

 

“They are looking at you like you’re a ten-course banquet,” Magnus said, doing his best to disguise his grin with his hand. “And they look like nobody has fed them in quite some time!” he added, laughing when Simon groaned.  

 

Magnus looked up when he realised that the King had dismissed them all, just in time for the Montpelier's to make a beeline for Simon. Trying to come up with some inspiration, fast, he scanned the room, his eyes lighting up when a distraction sauntered past them.

 

“Sophie, you look positively radiant tonight. Will you dance with Simon?” Magnus asked, snagging the arm of one of France’s most eligible bachelorettes. The girl was a beauty, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and third or fourth cousin to the king, he forgot which, there were so many of them. She also had an unrequited crush on Simon. She was, however, relatively harmless compared to the cousins.

 

“But of course, I would love that. I mean… I would be honoured,” Sophie said shyly, looking up at Simon through her lashes. Maybe he would finally admit his undying love to her and she could ask her father to have them married?

 

“The honour is all mine, mademoiselle,” Simon said, bowing low and offering his hand with a flourish. It might have been unfair of him to take her in his arms and swing her out onto the dancefloor, knowing that she had a thing for him. But in the courts of the King, all was fair.

 

Magnus shrugged at the Montpelier's and offered his hand to Clary, smirking when they narrowed their gazes at him. Sending them a wink, he followed Simon onto the dancefloor, taking Clary with him.

 

“I was hoping that the King would keep blathering on about his development of Paris so that we would have an excuse not to interact with the rest of them. At least he is content with Maria and Françoise-Athénaïs,” Clary said, eyeing The Marquise de Montespan, the King’s mistress, with ill-disguised contempt.  _ He is too busy with the two of them to bother me,  _ she thought, holding Magnus’ hand tightly as he swung her around.

 

“No fear of the groping from him,” Magnus agreed, also watching the way the King practically groped the mistress behind his wife’s back. He and his friends weren’t the only ones being sized up, he realised as he glanced at the watching crowds, but they were, however, the only ones he was concerned about. “Poor Sophie though, I think I see hope blooming in her eyes once more,” he said, nodding his head to the girl who was mooning over Simon.

 

“I don’t think she ever gave up hope. How many times has she hinted and cajoled and tried to seduce him?” Clary asked, also watching the younger woman. Shaking her head, she gave Simon a small smile when he looked pleadingly at them. “Maybe we could find her someone nice who will take care of her, as compensation for being used as a distraction?” she suggested.

 

“Maybe,” Magnus said, serupticiously waltzing them off of the dance floor and through the crowd at the back of the room when nobody was looking. Snagging a couple of glasses of wine from a passing servant, he pulled Clary under the staircase, unashamed to admit to himself that he was hiding.

 

Clary sipped her wine as she watched the crowd, her eyes moving from person to person. Lorenzo caught her eye, trying to shmooze the up and comers, silkily ingratiating his way into the various social circles. The self-important expression on his face had her rolling her eyes.

 

It seemed to be a permanent feature on the High Warlock’s face. At least they were only forced to spend time with him at his parties. Clary knew other Warlock’s who weren’t so lucky. She had even heard stories of Warlocks that had been raised by Lorenzo himself. The thought of what that must be like sent a shiver down her spine. 

 

At least when they weren't trying to impress the mundanes, they got to live in nice apartments, occasionally running the Shadowhunters ragged. But that was about as fun as it got. 

 

“Quick, the Montpelier’s have given up on Simon for the evening,” Clary said, discreetly sending her wine away when she saw the cousin’s heading their way. Grabbing Magnus’ glass, she sent that away too and dragged him onto the dancefloor. The cousins looked like they were in the mood for fun and Simon wasn’t the only one they often propositioned.

 

“Maybe you, Simon and I could all marry each other, that might put them off,” Magnus muttered, earning a snort from Clary. If the fact that they were all already taken would actually put any of the predators off, he would do it, just to save them from the aristocracy. Something as trivial, however, as a husband or wife wouldn’t have any of their admirers batting an eyelid.

 

Swinging Clary around the crowded dance floor, Magnus sidled over to Simon and Sophie. Spinning Clary out into Simon’s spare arm, he deftly wrapped his arm around Sophie’s waist and took her off of Simon’s hands. The grateful smile he received from Simon had him nodding before whisking a surprised Sophie around the floor. He could take pity on Simon for half an hour, at least.

 

**

 

**_Jamestown, The Colony of Virginia_ **

 

Jace wandered through the hallways of the Virginian Institute, finished with his day patrol and on the hunt for something else entirely, sustenance. A figure, opening the front door of the small church, had him stopping in his tracks and yanking a seraph blade from its scabbard. Before he realised who that figure was.

 

“Shadowhunter,” Jace said, sheathing his blade once more, his eyes appraising Jonathan Shadowhunter. And the huge armful of garments that the man was holding.

 

“Lightwood,” Jonathan said, nodding to Jace as he tightened his grip on the clothing in his arms. “I want you to fetch your brother and sister to Whitehead’s Office. I have a mission for the three of you,” he said, dismissing Jace to make his way to the office of the current Institute head, the third one in the last forty years.

 

Jace forgot about his dinner and changed direction, heading for his brother’s room. They hadn’t been on a sanctioned mission for a long time, at least a year or two, there just weren’t that many Warlocks around these parts. Dashing down the dimly lit hallway of the Institute, he didn’t bother knocking when he reached Alec’s room.

 

“Come on, we’ve finally got a mission,” Jace said breathlessly when he shoved the door open, finding Alec and Izzy sitting on Alec’s bed. “Are you okay?” he asked Izzy when he saw that Alec was activating her Iratze.

 

“Sure, it’s nothing,” Izzy said, clutching her arm to her chest, almost crying as her arm gave another screaming twinge of protest. It was nothing compared to the pain that ricocheted through her shoulders and back, those pains had had her eyes watering for the last ten minutes.

 

“By nothing, she means that she dislocated her shoulder when she was almost caught on one of her missions,” Alec growled, shaking his head at his sister. Sure, he understood why she did it, he and Jace had often joined her, compelled to help. But they had already been threatened with punishment more times than he could count for their forays.

 

Jace moved forward, taking Izzy’s arm. Looking her in the eye, he waited for her pained nod before yanking and pushing it back up into the socket. The scream that his sister let out sawed at his gut but it had to be done.

 

Izzy almost blacked out, her shoulders shaking, pain ripping across them and down her spine. A dizzying image floated through her brain, too fast for the rest of her to catch up to but an imprint of the image of wings was brandished into the inside of her brain. The image turned her entire body cold before it floated away, leaving her shaking.

 

“Luckily, you have an Iratze. If you didn’t, this injury would put you out of action for weeks. You have to start being more careful! Your recklessness is going to get you seriously injured, or killed, one of these days,” Alec muttered, watching Izzy shake her head and roll her shoulder. 

 

“It isn’t right and you know it. They are human beings,” Izzy growled, shaking off the dizziness that had swept through her and climbing shakily to her feet. Was it her fault if the mundanes thought it was alright to treat each other like property? “They need our help, who cares about Warlocks when the mundanes treat each other so appallingly?” she asked, turning to Jace to plead her case.

 

“They call them slave, refusing to even call them by their names. They are dying out in those fields, with barely enough food and water to survive on,” Izzy said, seeing the sympathy in his eyes. They all hated the slavery that was a common practice in the nearby mundane settlement. “I know you both want to help them more, you feel it like I do! Both of you,” she said, looking from Jace to Alec.

 

“You’re right, we do. But you can’t just go off by yourself without backup!” Jace muttered, shaking his head at his sister. She was always pushing herself too hard, sometimes being too reckless in her quest to help the mundanes who were treated like animals because of the colour of their skin. Usually to her own detriment. “We might have extra strength and speed, and healing runes, but you can’t do it all by yourself, you aren’t invincible!”

 

Jace felt the same pull to help but Izzy had made it her life’s mission to free the slaves of Jamestown, sneaking off on a regular basis to help them to freedom. As strong and capable as she was, she couldn’t always control the situation and usually came back with some sort of scrape or bump.

 

“Sorry,” Izzy muttered when she heard the catch in Jace’s throat, she turned to him and pressed her hand to his cheek. “I really am. I know that I go too far sometimes but we are Shadowhunters. We have the tools to help, to protect those who can’t help themselves. Surely the gifts that we were born with were meant for more than watching Warlocks,” she said.

 

“You have to think before you act though. You can’t leave us, Iz,” Alec said, standing and pulling his sister into his arms. Meeting Jace’s gaze over her head, he saw the same worry in Jace’s eyes. One day, the white mundanes, the town’s so-called “leaders”, would catch her and kill her, they almost had a few times.

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Izzy said, rolling her eyes, looking to Jace to share a look with him. A look that Jace didn’t seem interested in sharing with her. 

 

“But it could have been,” Jace said, resting his hand, gently, on Izzy’s shoulder. The thought of anything happening to her, or Alec, scraped at his gut. Even the thought of trying to live without either of them was horrifying to him, he already felt incomplete, had his entire life. “How can you help them if you’re dead?” he asked.

 

Alec let out a shaky sigh. The hole in his stomach and heart, the one he had lived with his entire life, would be irreparable without Jace and Izzy. And he knew that they both felt the same way, they had discussed it often enough. The need to help the mundanes and the need to keep his siblings safe was a constant battle that waged within.

 

Izzy took Alec’s face in her hands and yanked it down to press her lips to his forehead, moving on instinct. Sending all of her love into the kiss, she pulled back, searching his eyes when he stopped shaking and looked at her in surprise. Turning, she did the same to Jace, trying to convey her love for her brothers with the simple kiss.

 

Jace’s eyes closed, warmth and a calming presence radiating through him from the gentle kiss. A peacefulness that he had never felt before filled him up, making him grip her wrists where she clutched his face.

 

“Thank you,” Jace muttered when his sister pulled back, not even sure about what he was thanking her for. Maybe just the happiness that she brought him.

 

“What were you saying when you came in here?” Izzy asked when she pulled back, seeing the contented expression on her brother’s face. She had never seen that look on Jace’s face before, or Alec’s, she noted when she turned to see a beatific smile on Alec’s face.

 

“Jonathan is here, he has a mission for us,” Jace said, unable to help the grin that spread over his face when Izzy’s eyes lit up.

 

“Where? Doing what?” Izzy asked, grabbing Jace’s arm to pull him towards the door. “Please tell me we are getting out of here, it’s been so long since we went on a mission!” she said, practically bouncing down the hallway, her injury forgotten in her excitement.

 

“I don’t know, he just told me to bring you both to Whitehead’s office,” Jace chuckled, looking over his shoulder to see the indulgent smile on Alec’s face as he followed them. Izzy was right, it had been so long. Officially, they patrolled the territory around their Institute day and night, but they hadn’t ventured beyond their small pocket of the world for… he didn’t know how long.  _ Years!  _ He thought, trying to shake off the telltale ache of an impending headache.

 

Alec followed his siblings into Whitehead’s office and closed the door behind himself, noting the absence of the Head of their Institute. The place was small, only the four of them living there, only four of them to patrol the entire land mass that was apparently still quite new. He didn’t concern himself with that though, their job was to keep an eye on the small group of Warlocks that resided close by, just outside of Jamestown. As far as he knew, they were the only Warlocks on this side of the world.

 

“Lightwoods, I have a mission for the three of you. A real one,” Jonathan said, raising his eyebrows when Izzy grunted at him.  _ She can never let this drop!  _ He thought, his irritation turning his tone harsher than he had intended. “It is not our place to intervene with the mundanes. It is the way of the world and we can’t change that,” he said, shaking his head. 

 

“Nothing will ever change if those who have the power to help aren’t willing to stand up and be counted,” Izzy sniffed, staring pointedly at Jonathan. They had the power and they wasted it on this stupid war with the Warlocks. A war that nobody ever seemed to win.

 

“Maybe one day it will be different. Until then, you have a mission. So please drop it, you are needed. And before you go off, it is a mission to protect mundanes,” Jonathan said, preempting her tangent about how the three of them were needed here.

 

“Where?“ Alec asked, cutting Izzy’s retort off with a sigh, hoping it wasn’t just another mission to spy on their neighbours, they did that often enough already.  _ He wouldn’t have come all the way from Idris if it was local, Whitehead could have given us a local mission. _

 

“Paris. Everyone else is too busy so I am sending the three of you,” Jonathan said, passing Izzy a gown from the stack of clothing that he had brought with him before pulling out coats for Alec and Jace. While the Lightwoods were already on thin ice with their antics, his Shadowhunters were all occupied with the Warlocks in their various cities, there was nobody else.

 

“And you need us to wear these fancy clothes to protect mundanes?” Jace asked, staring at the green coat that Jonathan handed him, with disdain. “Why can’t we just wear these?” he asked, his exasperation clear as he gestured to the jerkins and leggings that they were all wearing, Izzy too. 

 

“Because you would be kicked out if anyone spotted you wearing those clothes,” Jonathan said, eyeing the garments that the Lightwoods were wearing. “You will need these to blend in,” he said, passing the brothers hose and shoes, and Izzy corsets, underskirts, giant bloomers, and shoes.

 

“You can not be serious, I’m not putting that on!” Alec growled when Jonathan handed him a long black curly wig. The expression on Jace’s face when Jonathan handed him a wig too, promised divine retribution if Jonathan tried to make him wear it. And Izzy didn’t look too impressed with the huge bundle of clothing that Jonathan had handed her either.

 

“You will wear what I tell you to wear. These things are at the height of fashion in Paris, the King’s court in particular. As I said, you need to blend in and nobody in the King’s court would be caught dead showing their own hair off,” Jonathan said, raising his eyebrows until Alec and Jace started shrugging out of their clothes with matching scowls.

 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with all of this?” Izzy asked, turning her back on her brothers to give them a little privacy. There was far too much of the pale gold gown for her liking. Usually, when they had a mission to other parts of the world, Jonathan let her wear the same doublet and hose that Alec and Jace wore, she had kicked up a fuss enough times for him to give in to her whims.

 

“Just put it on, you’ll figure it out,” Jonathan said, crossing the office to hold the door open for Izzy. “The bloomers and stockings first, then the gold one goes over the top of all of the white ones,” he said, shoving her through the door.

 

Izzy dropped it all on the floor of the hallway, muttering to herself as she started pulling her clothes off. Sifting through the ridiculous amount of white skirts and the giant undergarments, she started pulling them on, wondering why there were so many layers. The corset had her scratching her head but she wrapped it around herself and worked out the hooks, fastening them in the front. The ribbons at the back escaped her.

 

Sighing with frustration, Izzy grabbed the stockings and pulled them on, tying the ribbons around her thighs and shoving the shorts down over the top of them. The heavy gold brocaded dress had her activating her strength rune, and a few others, thinking that she would need them before trying and failing, to wrestle her way into the gold dress.

 

“I’ll just wear the white ones,” Izzy snarled when she shoved the door open and stormed into the office, throwing the gold dress on the floor. She was covered enough, as far as she was concerned. A hysterical laugh burst from her when she saw her brothers, it was too much! Alec dressed in grey and Jace in green, frills and ruffles and bows, everywhere.

 

“You don’t look any better,” Alec snarled at his sister, tugging at the scratchy wig on his head as he glared at Izzy and the mish-mash of white skirts she was wearing. The amount of flesh she was showing off had him wanting to throw a blanket over her. The grey long coat he was wearing, with matching hose and shoes, frilly lace all over the blasted thing and pearls sewn all over it, looked ridiculous but at least he was covered up.

 

“You can’t just wear the white ones, those are the undergarments,” Jonathan said, trying not to look at Izzy and all of the flesh that was exposed, her entire arms and most of her chest, the corset just about covering her breasts. 

 

“Well, I can’t put it on!” Izzy said, folding her arms and tapping her foot.

 

“Jace, Alec, pick up the dress,” Jonathan said with a deep sigh. Moving to stand behind Izzy, he gripped the corset strings and yanked them, tightening Izzy’s waist in and tying the ribbons off, ignoring the way she snarled at him and almost collapsed from the unexpected move. 

 

Jace yanked the dress over Izzy’s head when whatever Jonathan had done only made his sister’s… chest more... pronounced, his own wide-eyed stare mirrored on Alec’s face, they couldn’t get it on her fast enough! With some wrestling, loud snarls from the three of them and what felt like Izzy’s teeth, sinking into his arm, they managed to get it on.

 

Jonathan made short work of the pearl buttons on the back of Izzy’s dress, wondering how he had ended up in this position.  _ These three are the bane of my fucking existence! Even in this shithole corner of the world, they still manage to make my life a damned misery!  _ He thought as he worked.

 

“What have you done to me?” Izzy half growled, half choked, clutching her chest as she tried to breathe, trying to elbow Jonathan off of her when his hands started flying at her hair. The chokehold he took her in subdued her. For now.

 

“I receive at least three fire messages from you per week, begging for missions and now that you have one, you are trying to fight me? This is the mission, so suck it up, Lightwood!” Jonathan snarled in Izzy’s ear, turning on Alec and Jace when they stepped forward. “This is the mission. Can’t the three of you do as you are told, for once?” he asked.

 

Izzy tapped out, waving her brothers away with a hand and straightening up when Jonathan released her. He was right, she did pester him for missions. She endured his ministrations with good grace and even managed to keep her laughter under control when Jonathan forced the rouge on her brothers.

 

“What are we doing?” Alec asked, feeling supremely uncomfortable as he eyed Jace’s long blonde wig and rouged cheeks, knowing that he looked the same as his brother. Choosing not to dwell on the fact that he looked ridiculous, he focused his energy on the mission.

 

“There are four Warlocks currently attending a masquerade ball. The ball is being hosted by King Louis XIV of France, celebrating the work that he has been doing to improve the city of Paris. The three of you are to attend. I want eyes on those Warlocks at all times,” Jonathan said.

 

“Why would Warlocks be at a mundane ball?” Jace asked, confusion tugging his eyebrows down. “And what is so important about these four that they would be invited to a royal gathering?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know why they are there. Penhallow and Knightblood have been gathering intelligence in Paris but they are too busy with the rest of the Warlocks that reside in Paris, there are quite a few of them living there.

 

“As for why they are so important, one of them is The High Warlock,” Jonathan paused, letting the information sink in. The importance of who would be there quickly dawned on the siblings. “I want to know what he is up to. I don’t think I need to tell you how rare this opportunity is,” he said. Rey was a notorious coward, very rarely exposing himself to the Shadowhunters. He had yet to meet the man, too busy looking after 80 Shadowhunters and almost twenty Institutes to go out on missions.

 

“No, you don’t. We won’t let them out of our sight,” Alec said, his embarrassment falling away completely. The mission took up his sole focus. If they had a chance to learn something about The High Warlock, he was going to take it. Then maybe they could find out how this stupid war with the Warlocks started, maybe even end it. It wasn’t like Jonathan ever told any of them the how and why of it.

 

“Good. Portal to Chateau de Versailles and hand them this at the door,” Jonathan said, handing Alec an invitation that one of his Parisian Shadowhunters had managed to snag before handing out masks to match the sibling's outfits and giving them their final instructions. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Find out as much as you can about what they want with the mundanes then report directly to me in Idris.”

 

“We will,” Izzy said, taking her stele out and creating a portal for the three of them. Linking her arms through the elbows of her brothers'arms, she led them through it. This was their first mission in a long time and she had no intentions of fucking it up.

 

** 

 

**_Versailles_ **

 

Clary spun out of Simon’s arms and into Magnus’ as the string quartet in the corner started a new piece. Sending Simon an apologetic look when her friend took Sophie in his arms once more, she rested her hand on Magnus’ shoulder and let him guide her for the slower song, glad to be able to get her breath back. Simon had kept them moving in case anyone else decided they wanted a dance.

 

“I see that Lorenzo is enjoying himself,” Magnus muttered, nodding in The High Warlock’s direction. Lorenzo, surrounded by the bored looking nobility while he harped on about some meeting or other was nothing new.

 

“They only listen to his tales in the vain hope that they will find out some interesting piece of gossip that they can use against their neighbours,” Clary said, watching a few people sidle away when Lorenzo’s back was momentarily turned. 

 

“Of course they do, do you think he would get invited anywhere if they didn’t get something out of it? He certainly wasn’t invited here for his charm,” Magnus snorted, turning them in a circle and spinning Clary under his arm before pulling her close once more.

 

“Some of them look like they are falling asleep,” Clary giggled, watching one particular old mundane almost crash into the table that he was leaning against.

 

“I would offer to rescue them from his drivel but that would mean that we would have to talk to him,” Magnus sniggered.

 

“We? If there is any rescuing to be done, you can do it yourself,” Clary grinned, more than happy to throw Magnus to the wolves if it meant saving her own ass. Or wolf, singular. Lorenzo was one hell of a boring bastard.

 

“Thank you. And what happened to our pact of always having each other’s backs?” Magnus sniffed, his eyes flicking to Simon as he remembered the pact that the three of them had made as children, after their first ball when they were poked and pinched by the old ladies of the Spanish king’s court.

 

“Pact shmact. We were five, we didn’t know how much of an asshole Lorenzo is back then,” Clary said, grinning when Magnus chuckled.

 

“How about one of the English Dukes for Sophie?” Magnus asked, watching the girl try to pinch Simon’s ass with a shake of his head. “We could all escort her on a voyage to England and set up a meet for them?” he said, grinning at the sparkle in Clary’s eyes.

 

“And by “escort” her, do you mean escape Lorenzo for a month or two?” Clary asked, unable to hide her smirk. “We could take the long way, surely we would be able to squeeze at least six months out of it if we sail via China?” she asked.

 

“Exactly! We could set her up with William, or one of the James’s,” Magnus grinned, already planning the trip out in his head. Sure, they could portal the girl there and wipe her memory but where would be the fun in that?

 

“Sounds… I wondered how long it would take for them to show up,” Clary said, eyeing the top of the stairs when a new trio was announced. The newcomers might be wearing masks too, hiding their identities, but those runes stood out at any distance. If you had the eyes to see them.

 

Magnus turned his head in the direction of the stairs as he turned them around the floor, holding Clary a little closer. Yes, it hadn’t taken the Shadowhunters long at all. There were two men and a woman, all dressed impeccably, he noted as he eyed their outfits up.

 

“No black? They must be really trying to blend in this time,” Magnus whispered, grinning when Clary laughed. The Shadowhunters always managed to find their way into one of the balls that they attended, usually standing out like a sore thumb. “How uncomfortable do you think they are?” he asked, his eyes flicking from the woman in the middle who was struggling to negotiate the stairs and her dress at the same time, to the man on the left, holding her up. Something about the tall, dark Shadowhunter caught his eye.

 

“Extremely,” Clary said, eyeing their loud outfits and wigs, especially the blonde man. Turning to look at Simon, she jerked her head in their direction, watching as he waltzed Sophie over to them.

 

“How are we supposed to find the Warlocks in this mess?” Izzy asked her brothers, her eyes flicking over the huge crowd, her nose going into overdrive from the hundreds of scents that had assaulted them as soon as they had stepped into the palace. “Everyone looks the same,” she said as they approached the bottom of the staircase. 

 

“Why does there have to be so many people?” Jace asked, his brain turning fuzzy from the number of people and scents in the room. They were so used to it only being the three of them and Whitehead, and the missions that they were sent on weren’t usually so… crowded. It was too much

 

“I don’t know. We will have to be extra vigilant, they won’t exactly have their Warlock marks out on display in front of all of these mundanes,” Alec said, waving off a servant when the man offered him a glass of wine. They weren’t there to drink. The array of gowns and wigs was confusing, almost dizzying.

 

“Did you see who has arrived?” Simon asked Clary and Magnus when he reached them, trying not to alert Sophie as he watched the Shadowhunters across the vast ballroom. Sophie had refused to give up on their dance and he was trying not to be so obvious. Of course, the girl was nothing if not curious.

 

“Who are they?” Sophie asked, watching the new trio make it to the bottom of the stairs, wondering why her friends were so interested in them.

 

“Nobody, Sophie. Some... acquaintances of ours,” Clary said, unable to drag her gaze away from the Shadowhunters who were scoping the room out. “How do you feel about a voyage to England?” she asked to distract the mundane, even if she couldn’t focus on the oblivious girl.

 

“You know my father won’t let me travel without a chaperone,” Sophie said distractedly, standing on Simon’s toe as she eyed the tall newcomer, wondering what he looked like under his grey mask. “They are quite handsome, aren’t they?” she asked, looking at the dark haired man in particular, even if she couldn’t see him properly under his mask. 

 

“Yes, they are. And you have three chaperones right here, my dear,” Magnus said absentmindedly, also wondering what the tall Shadowhunter looked like under his grey mask, without knowing that he was parroting Sophie’s thoughts. “Maybe we should ask them to dance?” he asked Clary, unaware of the words that were coming out of his mouth as he watched the three hover at the edge of the dancefloor.

 

“Are you joking, they are Shadowhunters,” Clary asked, letting Magnus spin her in a circle as she watched the blonde Shadowhunter. There was something about him that made her want to take Magnus up on his suggestion.

 

“Maybe we should split up?” Alec suggested to his siblings, his eyes raking over the crowds “Try and find them on our own. We can cover more ground that way,” Luckily for him, he was taller than most, getting a clearer view. “Wait, I think I’ve found one of them,” he said, staring at a man in a russet coloured long coat, similar to his own, the man glaring at him.

 

“You mean the one with the face like a rat, looks like he wants to strangle us with his bare hands?” Jace asked, seeing where Alec’s gaze lay. The man, standing in the middle of a crowd of self-important looking mundanes on the other side of the room certainly didn’t like the look of them, judging by the sour expression that the man couldn’t quite hide. 

 

“I can’t see,” Izzy muttered, trying to balance on the tips of her toes to try and see what her brothers were talking about, over the crowd. “Maybe we should dance or something, try and blend in a bit better,” she suggested when she noticed that some of the people nearby were watching them. They were just standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring around. 

 

“If we ask them to dance, we can find out why they are here,” Magnus said to his friends, his hands tightening at Clary’s waist and hand as his feet started moving in the Shadowhunters direction, almost of their own accord. Something was pulling him towards them and he was powerless to stop it. “He is beautiful,” he whispered, staring at the tall one, his eyes raking over the strong jaw and erect position of the man’s back, looking as tall as he was.

 

“Sounds like a good idea,” Simon said, swinging Sophie after Magnus when she refused to let go of him, unable to take his eyes off of the dark-haired beauty in the pale gold gown, it looked magnificent on her. For some reason that he couldn’t fathom, it sounded like the best idea he had ever heard. Which was ridiculous, considering he spent half of his time chasing the Shadowhunters and half of his time running from them.

 

“Simon? We are already dancing,” Sophie said, her eyes flicking from Simon to the woman in the pale gold dress that he seemed to be aiming for, every time they spun around, not liking the slack-jawed expression on his face. It looked as though Simon was going to disappoint her once more.

 

“I don’t know whether we should rescue the Shadowhunters or let them two take care of them,” Magnus muttered to Clary when he saw that they weren’t the only ones who were approaching the trio. 

 

“These two look fairly interested in dancing,” Jace said, watching a man and woman approach. “Actually, they look a little bit too interested,” he said. He couldn’t see what they looked like under their masks but the looks in their eyes made him think of a couple of predators. And they were approaching fast.

 

“I am the Lady Montpelier, this is my cousin, the Duke. We were just saying that we haven’t seen you at court before,” Lady Montpelier said to the newcomers, practically fucking the fresh meat with her eyes. The beautiful woman with dark hair caught her attention. “You must tell me where you bought your gown, it is almost as beautiful as you are!”

 

Something in Magnus snapped when the Montpelier cousin’s reached the Shadowhunters, he didn’t like the way the Duke was practically drooling over the tall one, a snarl building in the back of his throat. Or the way that Lady Montpelier was looking at the female Shadowhunter, as though the woman was a snack. Seeing her reach out and touch the female Shadowhunter, he quickened his step, wanting to snap the woman’s arm.

 

“Thank you?” Izzy said uncertainly, her eyes widening when the woman reached out and caressed the bodice of her dress. The woman’s dainty hand, getting perilously close to her breast, made her think that it was probably the only dainty thing about her. A voice, one that sounded eerily familiar, caught her attention, her eyes flicking over the woman’s shoulder.

 

“Back off, you pair of vultures. Not everybody who meets you wants to join in your little ménage à however many will take you,” Magnus said to the cousins upon reaching the group, irritation that was bordering on irrational flaring for some reason that he couldn’t quite explain. “And I’m sure the lady doesn’t need you groping her, Lady Montpelier,” he said, staring pointedly at her hand

 

“Now now, Lord Bane, there is no need to be greedy, you already have enough,” Lady Montpelier said, staring just as pointedly at the group that was watching them over Magnus’ shoulder. “And I’m sure that the lady can decide for herself who she would like to spend time with,” she said.

 

“You are revolting,” Clary said to Lady Montpelier, her eyes flicking to the Blonde Shadowhunter once more, wondering where she had seen him before. “And I’m sure she has enough taste not to want to spend any time with you,” she said, silently adding,  _ even if she is a Shadowhunter.  _

 

Trying to get a read on the blonde Shadowhunter’s scent had Clary breathing deeply but she couldn’t sift through the scents around her. He was so handsome up close, a juxtaposition to the fact that he was supposed to be her enemy.

 

Simon put his hand on Clary’s shoulder when she took a step forward, too busy watching Lady Montpelier to notice how the blonde Shadowhunter’s eyes narrowed. His own eyes were almost slits as he watched the mundane woman’s fingers play over the female Shadowhunter’s arm. Wondering if he could get away with drop kicking the cousins in front of the King, he took his own step forward.

 

“She is right, I don’t want to spend any time with you,” Izzy said absentmindedly as she shook the mundane's hand off, trying to look around the tall man who seemed to have come to her rescue. She wanted to look at the man with the long curly brown wig. For some reason, the blonde woman who seemed to be clinging to him was glaring at her. The unfriendly expression had her lips pulling back over her teeth, not liking the way the blonde woman was touching her rescuer’s friend. It didn’t sit right with her at all.  _ She shouldn’t be touching him! _

 

Alec couldn't focus on anything but the man who seemed to be standing too far away from him. The mission to find the Warlocks was pushed to the back of his mind, the stranger commanding his attention instead. The man in the indigo and violet long coat was striking, stirring something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting very much to reach out and take the man’s mask off, to see what he looked like underneath it, he had to fight his hand. The golden skin was already a temptation but add in the brown eyes that kept flicking in his direction, he almost forgot himself completely. 

 

“Why don’t you come and have a drink with us?” Lady Montpelier insisted, taking the dark-haired woman’s arm in hand once more as she exchanged a look with her cousin. Seeing the look of annoyance on his face, her fingers tightened, neither of them was used to being ignored like this. “We could get to know one another somewhere a little more private,” she tried again, her eyes narrowing when Magnus plucked the newcomer’s arm from her grasp.

 

“She already said that she isn’t interested,” Magnus said, taking the female Shadowhunter’s arm in hand and pulling her into his side, for some reason that completely and utterly perplexed him. Unable to understand why he felt so protective of her, he almost bared his teeth at the Montpelier’s, physically having to fight the magic that wanted to gather in his hand.

 

Alec knew that he should be objecting to the man who had taken his sister’s arm and pulled her into his side but something about him, about his voice and the much more gentle grip he had on Izzy, made him trust the stranger, something that confused him deeply. There was something almost familiar about the man. Taking a deep breath, he tried to sift through the scents that surrounded them, to get a read on this Lord Bane but there were too many. He wasn’t close enough.

 

Izzy barely paid attention to the man who had taken hold of her arm, not minding his touch so much. She was too busy fighting the growl that was building in the back of her throat as she watched the blonde woman trying to keep hold of the beautiful man who had caught and held her attention. The man who looked like he had no interest in being kept hold of. 

 

Stepping forward, Izzy let the growl loose at the blonde woman, reaching out and pulling the man away from her, not giving a shit about the possessiveness that had taken over her. She didn’t like the sight of the blonde woman touching him, especially when it was clear that he had no interest in the woman.

 

Simon went, happily pulling his arm away from Sophie’s grasp, forgetting all about her when the beautiful woman took hold of his arm. The fact that she was a Shadowhunter should have repulsed him but the deep breath that he took had something tickling at his nose, a scent that was tugging at his brain. While mundanes only had one scent, Warlocks and Shadowhunters had two and that secondary scent was becoming stronger by the second.

 

Magnus watched in astonishment as the small woman that he had rescued from the Montpelier’s practically snarled in Sophie’s face and curled into Simon’s side. Turning to look at the other two Shadowhunters, he found the tall one watching him and the blonde one shuffling closer to Clary.

 

“Care to dance?” Magnus asked, offering his hand to the tall Shadowhunter, his eyes raking over the man’s grey long coat, in an obvious up and down stare. Ignoring the eyes that he could feel on his skin, not just the Montpelier’s, but the nearby crowd too, he took the Shadowhunter’s hand in his own when it slipped into his grasp, his skin tingling when long fingers wrapped around his own.

 

While the aristocracy liked to indulge in “activities” of all types, with all different partners, behind closed doors, none of them was so flagrant about it in public. Ignoring the whispers that had sprung up around them, Magnus led the man out onto the dancefloor, settling his hand in the small of the Shadowhunter’s back and clasping his hand with his own. He knew that the whispers were because of him dancing with a man but he didn’t have it in him to care, the man’s hazel eyes were breathtaking.

 

Alec saw his siblings also take a few tentative steps out onto the dancefloor with two of Lord Bane’s friends before Bane himself stole his attention once more. Not really knowing how to dance, he settled his hand on the man’s shoulder and followed where he led, inhaling once more. The body, pressed against his own, felt too familiar. The word  _ Warlock  _ flashed through his head, a split second before the secondary scent registered with him, now that he was close enough to smell it.

 

“Omega,” Alec whispered, bending closer and practically mashing his nose to the man’s neck, inhaling deeply, filling himself with the perfect scent of sandalwood and Omega. “My Omega,” he whispered, his eyes snapping open as he pulled back. 

 

Magnus stared into the impossibly wide eyes that stared right back at him when he heard the words, shuffling closer on instinct until he was flush against the Shadowhunter. Leaning the last inch or so, he took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of sandalwood and Alpha, his Alpha.

 

“How?” Magnus asked, staring up at the Shadowhunter, wondering how the man could be his mate. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, the scent called to the most basic part of him. He just didn’t understand how it was possible, or why the notion of it didn’t disgust him like it always had. The man was a Shadowhunter.

 

“I don’t know,” Alec murmured, clutching the Warlock tighter to him, even if he should be letting go. The weight of his mate’s head, coming to rest on his shoulder, had his eyes drifting closed, the rest of the world falling away as they turned in slow circles. 

 

Magnus buried his nose in the Shadowhunter’s neck, breathing deeply. Images started flashing through his head as they danced, images of other dances, other times when he had stood this close to the man that was wrapped around him. They were confusing, a jumbled mess in his mind that flashed by, too quickly to keep hold of. He should be pulling back, asking the hundred questions that chased each other through his head but he didn’t want to. He just wanted to dance with his Alpha. 

 

Alec opened his eyes for a second, ignoring the staring crowd that watched them, to find his brother and sister dancing with the Warlock’s friends, Izzy and Jace standing as close as he was, to the man and woman. The realisation that the three strangers were the Warlocks that they had come to find flashed through his head, along with the realisation that his brother and sister had also found their mates. He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. The knowledge was right there, behind the images that flashed through his head.

 

Magnus couldn’t say that he was bothered by the lips that pressed a soft kiss into his neck. Maybe he had never wanted a mate before but they felt right against his skin. A shudder ran down his spine from the memory of a hundred kisses ghosting all over his body. The images of those lips touching him everywhere tugged the corners of his lips up. He knew that kiss.

 

Maybe it was instinct, maybe just the image of kissing the man in his arms that drove him but Alec did it again, trailing his lips up the Warlock’s neck. It felt right, natural, even if he didn’t know the man. As prone as he was to overthinking things, he ignored the tightening in his gut and the dizziness in his head as they swayed, nosing the Warlock’s face up to kiss his cheek before he found the man’s lips.

 

Magnus watched image after image float behind his closed lids as he sunk into the kiss, forgetting everything else when the plump lips brushed his own, again and again. The kiss was everything that he felt that he had been missing, it left him breathless and desperate for more. Needing air, he pulled back slightly, letting his forehead rest against the Shadowhunter’s, refusing to open his eyes.

 

Alec felt his chest hitch when one image stood out above the rest of them, the image of a little girl. All of the images felt precious, sharing a meal, a warm embrace, whispered laughter shared over wine, holding the man, in his arms, in a cold lake. But the image of the little girl called to his heart, her name flashing in his head.

 

“Catarina?” Alec asked, unsure of who he was asking or where the name had come from. The feeling in his stomach was too compelling, a feeling of desperation to know her, as strong as the desperation to know the man in his arms.  _ She is my daughter… our daughter. _

 

“She is beautiful, so big, a fully grown woman, she misses you,” Magnus said, the words coming automatically as his brain struggled to catch up. The image of a woman, her skin blue and her scent beautiful had his eyes snapping open, looking up into Alec’s eyes when he heard the indrawn breath. “Alexander…” he said when the name snapped into his brain, the images solidifying in his head.

 

“Magnus,” Alec said, the word coming out in a breathless whisper when he finally understood the familiarity of the Warlock’s touch and voice. This was his mate, the mate that he loved more than his own life. “Magnus, I’m so sorry…” he murmured, searching Magnus’ eyes for the hatred that he feared more than anything that he had ever faced.

 

“Me too, I love you, Alexander,” Magnus said, pressing his lips to Alec’s, wishing he could hold onto the texture of plump lips against his own. A hand on his shoulder had him pulling back, a split second before a growl ripped from his Alpha. Confusion swept through him when he found himself spinning around. 

 

“I suggest you take your hand off of my mate,” Alec growled as he spun Magnus behind his back, glaring at the Warlock who had taken hold of Magnus’ shoulder.

 

“I don’t take orders from Shadowhunters,” Lorenzo snarled, glaring right back at the glowing Shadowhunter. “Come away Magnus, before it is too late,” he said, looking over the Shadowhunter’s shoulder. It was already too late, the Shadowhunter wasn’t the only one glowing brightly.

 

“Magnus, I don’t feel so…” Alec trailed off as other images spun through his head, the pictures of their lives and the ghost of his wings leaving him feeling cold. Spinning on the spot, he pulled Magnus close, burying his face in his mate’s neck when he saw the bright glow of Magnus’ entire body. “I love you, we will find a way...” he whispered before the waves of cold light consumed him.

 

Magnus had a second to realise three things, Alec was gone, so were his brother and sister, and Lorenzo knew; before the fire consumed him too. 

 

Magnus barely landed, with a thud, on the floor of his father’s throne room before he was on his feet again, his magic bursting out of him with a snarl.  _ Again!  _ Clary and Simon landed next to him, both of them just as angry as he was. His head snapped up when Asmodeus’ voice reached him.

 

“Magnus, sidekicks, how nice of you to drop by. It's been an age!” Asmodeus said, snapping his book closed to watch Magnus’ histrionics. His eyes raked over Magnus’ ridiculous appearance as he snapped his fingers, erecting a shield when he saw the wild look in his son’s masked, glowing eyes.

 

“You are such an asshole, what is wrong with you?” Magnus snarled as he gathered his magic and threw a blazing fireball in his father’s direction. “This is my life! Is it just some big amusement to you?” he growled, hatred rolling through him for his father and the offhand way that Asmodeus threw his words around.

 

“Of course it isn’t. Do you think it brings me pleasure to see you suffer?” Asmodeus asked, keeping his shield raised as he let Magnus take his frustrations out. Letting them go when Clary and Simon both created portals, he watched as Magnus shot fireball after fireball at his shield.

 

“Yes, I do. I think you enjoy it immensely. I am your greatest disappointment after all,” Magnus yelled as he threw another fireball at his father, wishing he could just spread his wings and fly away. Or choke his father with his bare hands. He would have settled for either right then. Of course, he didn’t have wings anymore and he wouldn’t even get close to Asmodeus.

 

“It is for the best. We don’t mate with angels. Imagine what your union would have borne had you mated with him. This is a blessing,” Asmodeus said, lowering his shield when Magnus slumped.

 

“Don’t, you don’t get to speak of any children that Alexander and I might have had,” Magnus said, his voice cracking as pain reared up once more. “We will break this curse and I will mate with him. I will bear his children and take my daughter back, and you will be left here with nothing, nobody to share your lonely, miserable existence with,” he said, glaring at his father before turning on his heel.

 

“Where are you going?” Asmodeus asked, climbing to his feet when Magnus turned for the door.

 

“To spend some time with my daughter, or do you want to take that from me too?” Magnus tossed over his shoulder as he gripped the door handle. Pulling the door open, he left his father behind when Asmodeus resumed his seat. 

 

Anger burned through Magnus as he bolted down the hallways of his father’s palace, desperate to spend some time with Cat. The sight of her, dashing towards him as he neared his old quarters, pushed through his anger, a smile lighting up his face when she ran straight at him.

 

“Dad,” Cat cried, throwing herself into her dad’s arms when they spread wide, sinking into his tight embrace and inhaling his scent. “I’ve missed you. You look ridiculous,” she said with a grin when she pulled back, blinking her tears away to get a good look at him.  

 

“Thanks, I’ve missed you too,” Magnus said, rolling his eyes as he pulled his wig off and snapped his fingers to remove his mask. “Blame the mortals, this is what constitutes fashion in the mortal realm,” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulder as they made their way back to her quarters. 

 

“I saw Simon, he looks just as… handsome as you do,” Cat chuckled, her dad wasn’t going to live that wig down for at least the next three centuries. Pushing through the double doors of her quarters, she led Magnus into their living room and slumped on the couch. She did have to concede that the rest of it looked good now that the wig was gone, much more like her dad.

 

“Where is Simon?” Magnus asked as he flopped down next to her, looking around as though he was about to jump out on them.

 

“He came bursting in here, looking for Elaine. She isn’t here, she is at her old house with Becky,” Cat said, her face lighting up at the intrigue on Magnus’ face. “Becky found her mate, while we were out looking for clues about your banishment. We travelled to a remote estate on the outskirts of the realm where we met a demon named Arterra, she was Becky’s Alpha. They just had there first child, a boy that they called Deacon,” she said.

 

“Becky is a mother?” Magnus asked, joy for his best friend’s sister bubbling up in him. “I’ll wager Elaine is so happy. I’m happy for them, I can’t wait to meet him,” he said with a sad smile, hoping that they wouldn’t miss out on as much of Deacon’s childhood as they had Cat’s. “Simon must be a mess. He’ll be happy to know that he has a nephew but sad that he can’t be there for the little one. But he wouldn’t deny Becky the joy of children, she deserves to be happy.”

 

“Simon’s probably still crying. Elaine dotes on Deacon, he is the sweetest boy! He has the same black eyes as Simon and Becky. Deacon is only nine months old but he already has us all wrapped around his fingers and Becky is a great mother,” Cat said with a soft smile, they all loved the boy.

 

Magnus raised an eyebrow when Cat snapped her fingers and handed him a glass of wine. Watching her sip her own, he had to reel himself in, shaking his head before he took a deep swig of his own. It was excellent and sorely needed. 

 

“What?” Cat asked when she saw the expression on her dad’s face, watching him toss his wig and mask aside as he slumped into the back of the couch next to her.

 

“Nothing, it’s just hard… I have to keep reminding myself that you aren’t a child anymore,” Magnus said, gripping Cat’s hand when she reached out to him.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t think, I just…” Cat trailed off, wondering what she was even apologising for. 

 

“Hey, don’t be. You have your own life to live. I wish your father and I were here to see it but you are a grown up. You are allowed to do grown-up things, even if you make me feel like an old man,” Magnus said, smiling when Cat rolled her eyes at him.  _ There she is! _

“How is he?” Cat asked, trying to push down the pain of not being able to see him. It was funny, she had only gotten to have Alec as her father for a few weeks, barely a handful of grains in the hourglass of her life, and she hadn’t seen him for seventy-eight years, but he was still her dad. Those few weeks had had such an impact on her life, he always would be.

 

“Beautiful, as ever. We got to share a dance, this time,” Magnus said, his heart fluttering as he remembered feeling Alec’s body against his own, familiar and new. The sad smile on Cat’s face had him waving his hand and snapping his fingers. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the parchment that he had produced. “Look,” he said.

 

Cat leaned in to inspect the piece of parchment that her father had conjured, her stomach tightening when she saw that it was a picture of her dads. It looked like someone had come along and painted a picture of the two of them, dancing by the looks of it. She could see figures in the background but they were blurry, as though Magnus had seen only Alec.

 

“You both look ridiculous, but you look happy too,” Cat said around the lump in her throat, taking the picture from her dad to inspect it properly. Magnus’ head was on Alec’s shoulder, his eyes closed, Alec had the most beautiful smile on his face.

 

“We were, just for that moment. Everything else faded away, we just got to spend a little bit of time together. It wasn’t nearly enough but we had something at least. Even if I don’t remember it, it will keep me going until I can see him again,” Magnus sighed, also inspecting the picture.

 

“He asked about you, I think he misses you as much as I do,” Magnus said, reaching up to wipe the stray tear that fell down Cat’s face before pulling her into his side, stroking his fingers through her hair when she pressed her face into his neck. 

 

“He loves you so much, we both do. You brought so much happiness to our lives. I wish that we had met under different circumstances, that you could have had your mother in your life for a while longer but I thank my lucky stars for the day that you came into our lives,” Magnus said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

 

“You talk like we will never be together again,” Cat said, pulling her head back to look up at her dad.

 

“Of course we will. But at the time that Alec found you, we faced an uncertain future. We knew that we could never be together, never have children. And then you came along. You are the daughter that we never thought we would get to have,” Magnus said.  

 

“I feel the same way. But you can’t talk like that. I expect many brothers and sisters when we find a way to break the curse,” Cat said, raising her eyebrow at her dad until he smiled. “Better, I want at least three of each from you!” she said with a grin, decidedly not thinking of how she would attain her siblings. They would obviously fall from the baby tree.

 

“Well, I’ll have to ask your father but I’m sure he would be on board with your request,” Magnus chuckled, shaking his head at her. Alec would probably give him 100 babies if he asked for them. “And it warms my heart to think of all of the free babysitting from their big sister,” he said with a sly grin.  

 

“Bring it on!” Cat said, her insides turning to mush at the thought of looking after her little brothers and sisters. She already knew she would protect them with her life when the time came.

 

“Speaking of the curse, have you learned anything new?” Cat asked, trying not to feel guilty that her own search had ground to a halt once more, decades ago. She had searched every library that she could gain access to, throughout the realm, and most of the ones that she hadn’t been allowed into by sneaking, stealing and racking up piles of favours. It had been worth it, even if she hadn’t found a way yet. 

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe it has something to do with the curse, maybe it doesn’t but Lorenzo Rey knows something, I’m sure of it,” Magnus said, mulling over the last thing Lorenzo said to him. “He is the High Warlock,” he added when Cat looked thoroughly confused.

 

“High Warlock? Was this one who raised you last time?” Cat asked, sitting up straight, remembering that Magnus had mentioned him last time she had seen him. Thinking of the Warlock that she had met as a child, the man who had taught her glamours and how to hide her wings, she wondered what had become of him. The man had even taught her a little bit about flying. 

 

“Yes. He is… in charge of us, for lack of a better description,” Magnus said, realising that Lorenzo had been present in the three lives that he had lived in the mortal realm, in some way or other. “Something that he said before I ended up here makes me think he knows more than he lets on. He told me to leave your father before it was too late. He def…” he cut off when the door opened, glaring when he saw his father standing in the doorway.

 

“That is enough. It’s time for you to be on your way,” Asmodeus said, his eyes flashing at his son and granddaughter when he saw twin defiant expressions on their faces.  _ Always with the defiance, she is just like him!  _ Snapping his fingers, he watched as Magnus disappeared, the glass that Magnus had been holding crashing to the floor.

 

“Were you standing there listening, the entire time?” Cat demanded, launching herself to her feet when her dad dissapeared once more. “What’s the matter, Asmodeus, are you afraid that we will find a way to break your stupid curse? We are getting closer,” she yelled, flinging her glass at Asmodeus. She hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye.

 

“One day that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble, Catarina,” Asmodeus snarled, wiping a few flecks of wine, that he hadn’t been able to deflect, off of his coat. The glass crunched under his feet as he turned on his heel.

 

“What are you going to do, banish me to the mortal realm too?” Cat asked, hoping that he would say yes.

 

“There are realms far worse than the mortal realm,” Asmodeus snarled over his shoulder before striding from the room.

 

“And I’d wager that they have libraries too!” Cat yelled at Asmodeus’ retreating back. The slamming door did nothing to calm her anger. She paced, out of agitation, thinking through what her father had said.  _ This Lorenzo knows something. If I can find a way into the mortal realm, I might be able to make him talk. _

 

“That’s easier said than done,” Cat muttered. Magnus had never taught her how to portal to the mortal realm, he had insisted that he would teach her when she was old enough. It would have been simple enough to learn if she had a willing teacher. The problem was, Asmodeus had banned the inhabitants of Edom from helping her in her quest. And no matter how much she threatened, bribed and cajoled, they were all more scared of Asmodeus that they were of her.

 

It would require stealth but she was sure that she could find someone to help her. It would just take patience. Lifting the piece of parchment that she still clutched in her hand, she inspected the picture of her dads, her lips tugging up into a half smile at the happy, peaceful expression on Alec’s face as she brushed her fingers over it. At least she had a new piece of the puzzle. Maybe she didn’t have all of the pieces yet but she would get there, even if it took her another 78 years, even if it took her 178 years. They were worth it.

 

**

 

**_Idris_ **

 

Jonathan Shadowhunter pulled his stele out and used it to send a couple of fire messages as he stared down at the three babies, lying on the ground in the crater that they had first fallen in. Letting out a deep, disappointed sigh, he knelt down and marked each of them with their angelic runes.

 

“You know, I’m still none the wiser about what Rey wanted with the mundanes,” Jonathan muttered as he began wrapping the screaming babies up in blankets. It had come as quite a shock that all three of them were here, again! 

 

The sound of a couple of portals opening had him looking up. Scooping Jace up off of the ground, he handed him over to the first Shadowhunter, thinking that they made a good fit, for some reason.

 

“Herondale, this is Jace. Take him back to Hong Kong with you. He is rather rebellious, nothing you can’t manage, I’m sure,” Jonathan said, handing him over to Imogen Herondale and ignoring the confused look that she gave him. Watching her walk back through her portal, he turned and scooped Alec up.

 

“Underhill, this is Alec, please see to it that he is fully trained. He is a little more responsible than the other two. Not by much but… well, I’m sure you’ll have no problems,” Jonathan said, handing Alec over to Steven Underhill. The perplexed expression on the Shadowhunter’s face was nothing new but Underhill dutifully took a portal back to Bucharest.

 

“And you can come with me,” Jonathan said, scooping Izzy up into his arms. “Maybe you won’t be so defiant this time,” he said as he used his stele to create a third portal, heading back to the Gard. If he split them up, they couldn’t set each other’s curses off.

 

**

 

**_Madrid_ **

  
  


The sun was rising as Lorenzo Rey stepped out of his portal, silently fuming to himself as he descended into the crater to retrieve the three pains in his ass that had had him up all night. He had a good mind to send the three of them to the Spiral Labrinth. 

 

“Two hundred mundanes we had to wipe the memories from! I had to call in all of my Warlocks to manage it and I’ve only just finished! Half of the mortals were blinded by your antics and the other half almost died, they are too weak to withstand the glow! Lucky for them, I was there to protect them.

 

“If you think you will get another chance to cause me such misery again, the three of you are sorely mistaken!” Lorenzo muttered at the babies when he reached them. 

 

Wrapping them up with a wave of his hand, Lorenzo looked up when three separate portals opened, three of his exhausted Warlocks stepping out.

 

“Meliorn, Blackthorn, Rollins. Pick one each and get them out of my sight,” Lorenzo muttered, watching as Meliorn picked Simon up, Helen took hold of Clary and Dot scooped Magnus up. “And please, try to keep them out of trouble!” he said when the three turned and carried the crying babies back through their respective portals.

 

Lorenzo had no compunctions about splitting the three of them up, sick of them after the last two lifetimes, they had made his life a misery. Waving his hand, he created his own portal and headed home for his bed, planning on having as little as possible to do with the three of them. He had had enough to last him three lifetimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was convoluted, it's hard trying to write that many characters. I hope y'all were able to keep up with it, I had a bit of a nightmare with the order of my paragraphs so this was what I went with. I really need to get me a beta reader.


	4. 1715

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new century

**_Bucharest, the territory of Wallachia._ **

  
  
  
  


Magnus contemplated his life as he stared through the flames that surrounded him, his eyes narrowed on the three idiots who stared right back with wide, scared eyes, pretty sure one of them had pissed his breeches. Three. Number four had run, screaming, from the room, crying for, what sounded like, the gods to save them. He couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t understand a word that they were saying.

 

“How did my life come to this?” Magnus asked, staring up at the ceiling, unsure of who he was even asking. The agitation that had taken hold of him had him pacing the limited amount of space that the circle of flames afforded him, an odd, cold heat from the flames sending shivers over his bare chest. Luckily, he had a pair of silky pyjama pants on.

 

_ Haven’t I always been a good person? Haven’t I always tried to do the right things? Haven't I always been there for others when they had needed me? What have I done to deserve this? _

 

Just thinking of what Dorathea, his best friend and surrogate mother, would say if she could see him now had him scowling at the idiots again. Dorathea's voice floated into his head, ringing with snide giggles,  _ what did you do now? How are you going to get out of this one? _

 

Okay, so maybe Magnus hadn’t always done the right thing. Maybe he and Dorathea had always had a knack for getting themselves into situations that should be avoided. At all costs. But this time, it really wasn’t his fault. 

 

“And none of the other times were too, Dorathea was a bad influence on me! She was supposed to be the responsible one, the one who set the rules,” Magnus muttered to thin air, wishing that he could see her face again. She had disappeared two years ago, vanished without a trace. 

 

Magnus missed her more than he ever thought it was possible to miss someone. The hole that she had left in her wake, when he had gotten up from the breakfast table to find her one morning, only to find her bedchamber empty, had slotted so neatly into the other hole that had always filled him.

 

That hole had always been there, or maybe it was more than one hole, as though someone had taken a large spoon and scooped several parts of him out, parts that he was pretty sure were vital to his wellbeing. Dot had once confessed to him that she also felt as though something had been missing from her too. They had done their best to be the thing that filled those gaps in each other, even if it wasn’t the same as what had been missing. 

 

She had always been there though, always when he needed someone to heal his cuts and bruises as a child, there to teach him manners and fashion and his way as a Warlock. Never ageing, never refusing to listen, never failing to vent her own anger at the world, or to share in the small pleasures of life. 

 

They had had a good life together or as good as two lonely souls could make it. They had shared a small house in the highlands of Scotland. The had usually spent their days reading and learning, and their nights portaling to London, drinking and gambling in the taverns, fleecing the mundanes with cheap tricks. And then usually ran from said mundanes when they had gotten angry.

 

And they had spent their weekends leading the local Shadowhunters on merry chases across the countryside to break up the monotony of countryside living.  _ Good times! _

 

“Okay, so maybe this is my penance for living a life of sin,” Magnus muttered, conceding that he hadn’t always been the most honest person. Those moments, the distractions, as they had always called them, had always been fun though. “But it could have been worse, it could have been a life of debauchery!” he muttered with a shudder.  _ No thanks. _

 

Just in the middle of consoling himself with the fact that he had never physically harmed the mundanes or Shadowhunters, and had always given the mundanes the chance to win their money back, he stopped pacing when one of the gibbering idiots stopped the whispered conversation that had been going on between his three captors and disappeared through a door.

 

“Where is he going?” Magnus demanded, turning to the remaining two men, wondering if it was worth trying magic to get out of the circle of flame again. It hadn’t worked the first four or five time he had tried but what was once more if it meant freedom? The two men, flinching back and prostrating themselves on the ground might have been amusing; if he could understand what they were chanting. 

 

Frustration was the prevailing emotion, that, and anger. The Flames let him see and hear the three men but that was no good to him. For one, he couldn’t understand what language they were speaking. Half of it sounded suspiciously like some form of eastern European, the rest sounded like some garbled language of tongues that tickled at the edge of his brain, with the odd, “you do our bidding,” thrown into the mix, in English. He couldn’t scent them either, something about the magic in the flames blocking outside scents.

 

They had to be Warlocks, he just didn’t know who they were. Dorathea and he had never had much contact with the Warlocks of the world, living pretty much in seclusion for some unknown reason. Dorathea hadn’t known why they had been banished to their corner of the world either.

 

Magnus was just raising his hand to try again when gibbering idiot number three returned, carrying a sack. A moving, yowling sack. The sounds that were coming from the linen sack turned his stomach, for some unknown reason. Unable to pull his gaze away, he watched as the man reached inside the sack and pulled a small ginger tabby cat out of it.

 

“Stop! Stop that right now!” Magnus yelled when gibbering idiot number three held the cat up to him, by the scruff of its scrawny neck, and raised a knife, continuing to jabber away in the odd language while looking at him with hope in his eyes.

 

Magnus let loose a furious blast of magic, his heart thudding in his chest. The sounds of the animal were pitiful and he had always liked the stray cats that he and Dorathea used to feed. 

 

The sound of a shriek, one that sounded entirely too human to be the cat, had Magnus pulling his magic back. A huge grin spread across his face when gibbering idiot number three stood nursing a set of claw marks on his face, and one and two tried to chase the cat that he had dropped, almost setting themselves on fire with the cold flames in the process.

 

Opening his arms wide, Magnus caught the trembling kitten when it bounded across the floor and leapt through the flames, not minding one bit when its small claws dug into his chest for purchase. Wanting to bear his teeth at the three idiots when they stood glaring at the cat, he let the kitten burrow into his neck.  

 

“Hey there, sweet thing. I won’t let them hurt you,” Magnus whispered to the kitten, stroking his fingers over its skinny, shaking body. The angry mutters of the men had Magnus taking a step forward, a snarl building in his throat, the noise sending the three of them to their knees again.

 

“Maybe you could help me find a way out of our prison,” Magnus whispered to the kitten, a small smile that he turned to hide from the prostrated men, spreading over his face when the kitten sniffed at his neck before falling asleep in the crook of it, soft purrs filling his ears. “Maybe not.”

 

**

 

Alec crouched in the bushes, shifting his weight from knee to knee, as he had been doing for the last hour, to watch the small house that he suspected the Warlocks were holed up in. A rustling in the bushes had him yanking a dagger from its sheath against his right leg. Seeing who it was, he shook his head, losing the defensiveness to his crouch

 

“Woah there, let's not be hasty!” Underhill said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. Watching Alec sheath the dagger, he crawled forward, his eyes darting to the small house too as Alec’s gaze returned to it.

 

“Is there a problem on the east side?” Alec asked quietly, barely sparing any attention for the Head of his Institute, too intent on making sure nobody went into the house. Or left it. This was their mission for the night, watch the Warlocks, see if they can get any information about the possible schemes they might be plotting.  _ Same as always.  _

 

The fact that the Warlocks never seemed to be plotting anything never stopped Steven Underhill from assigning the same stupid mission, over and over again. At least Steven was always willing to assign himself the same missions. Then again, it wasn't like there were many other Shadowhunters Underhill had to choose from. Three, to be exact.

 

“No, I was bored,” Steven said, flopping down onto the ground next to Alec and pulling a leftover oatcake, from breakfast, out of his pocket to eat. It was dark, late at night, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to chow down on delicious breakfast foods. 

 

“Why are we here then?” Alec asked, dragging his gaze away from the house too and accepting the oatcake that Steven handed him. It was delicious, his favourite food, always reminding him of home. 

 

“Because this is our duty?” Steven replied, grinning when Alec snorted into his oatcake. To be fair, his imitation of Jonathan Shadowhunter had been pretty spot on. 

 

Alec had to laugh, if he didn’t, he would be crying about the ache in his knees from the hard ground and the ache in his shoulders from God knew what. Turning back to Steven, he studied the man’s blue eyes and blonde curls, wondering for the millionth time what Steven Underhill’s deal was.

 

Steven had raised him, Alec was pretty sure. The man still looked the same from when he was a child, not looking much older than he was, but Steven was still there in the few memories that he had when he strained for them. The further back he tried to think, the harder it was to conjure the memories. Steven was the Head of the Institute but never seemed happy with the role, usually only smiling like that when he was outside, on a mission.

 

They were friends, comrades in arms. Steven’s presence never really filled the lonely gaps in him, not completely, but spending time with the man always put Alec at ease. Maybe they were kindred spirits or something, each dealing with the constant daily battle of loneliness versus duty. Then again, weren’t all Shadowhunters like that? All the ones that he had met were anyway.

 

Not that he had met them all, not even close.

 

“Can’t ignore duty, that would never do!” Alec mocked Jonathan’s voice, his own just a little too deep to pull it off as well as Steven had. He still earned a laugh from his friend though. A movement caught his eye, pulling his full attention back to the house.

 

Steven looked too, watching a figure pass one of the windows before the blaze of a candle once again lit up the room beyond the shadow.  _ So fucking boring!  _ It seemed that their boredom was about to come to an end when a muffled yell came from down the dirt road.

 

Alec’s head snapped around, at the same time as Steven’s did, both of them jumping to their feet and drawing their weapons, Alec a bow, Steven a battle axe.

 

Steven silently communicated for Alec to follow before taking off in the direction of the yelling, knowing that Alec would have his back. Dashing out of the bushes and into the road, he almost dropped his axe at the sight that greeted him. 

 

“It’s just a mundane, I think,” Steven said, chancing a glance over his shoulder at Alec, doing his best not to burst into laughter when he saw Alec shaking with silent mirth behind him.

 

“He seems quite… unwell,” Alec said, lowering his bow a fraction to watch the mundane run in flapping circles, yanking at his wild hair. “Has he pissed himself?” he asked, his laughter fading. The mundane obviously had some sort of mundane malady that affected his mind. Turning on his heel, he made to turn back to the Warlock house.

 

Steven was about to follow when one of the mundane’s screeching yells reached him. The word “demon” had him turning on the spot and dashing forward, Alec hot on his heels once more.

 

“Stop yelling and tell us what is wrong with you!” Steven yelled in the mundane’s face when they reached him, lowering his axe when the man’s wide eyes fixed on it, the man shrinking back slightly.

 

“Demon! Demon! It has my brothers, it’s going to eat them! It has huge fangs and its claws are like blades, you have to help me! Help me save them before it is too late!”

 

Alec pried the crazy mundane off of his friend, exchanging a look with Steven when the man went back to yanking on his hair. “I think he needs our help,” he said in a gross understatement.

 

“Obviously, but we can’t abandon the mission,” Steven said, his head flicking in the direction of the house. Grabbing the mundane by his collar, and Alec by his arm, he dragged them back into the shadows when he saw three Warlocks emerge from the house. “The mission comes first,” He said, jerking his head in the Warlocks direction.

 

“Please, you have to help my brothers, the beast was huge, he might be devouring them now, as we speak. You have to help me!”

 

“We split up then, one of us stays with the Warlocks, the other rescue the mundanes from the demon,” Alec said, turning on his heel to follow when the mundane grabbed his arm.

 

“Yes,  _ you _ can stay with the Warlocks, and  _ I’ll  _ go help the mundanes,” Steven said, grabbing the back of Alec’s leather coat. 

 

“I can handle a demon, you are the Head of the Institute, if you follow the Warlocks, I won't have to make a report to you later,” Alec said, knowing that Steven wanted the excitement of banishing a demon rather than the boring task of following the Warlocks. The problem was, so did he.

 

“Yes, but if you banish the demon, you will have to portal to Alicante to report to Jonathan,” Steven said with a smirk. It was protocol; if any Shadowhunter ever encountered a demon, they had to portal to the Gard and report it in person. “And we all know how much you loath Jonathan Shadowhunter,” he said, making to follow the mundane who was gaping like a fish at them.

 

“Yes, but I’m banned from the Gard, and you’re not,” Alec smirked, his grin spreading from ear to ear. He had never been allowed near the Gard. He was also banned from ever setting foot in Hong Kong, for some reason unbeknownst to him.

 

“Exactly, you aren’t allowed to set foot in Alicante,” Steven said, doing a victory dance when Alec’s face fell. Alec was banned from the Gard, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to make the report, which meant he wouldn’t be able to deal with the demon. Alec had walked right into it. “Have fun chasing the Warlocks,” he grinned.

 

“Yes, but that means that you will have to portal to Alicante,” Alec said, wiping the superior smirk off of Steven's face. A laugh burst from him when Steven shuddered. Steven hated Jonathan as much, if not more than he did and he hated the Gard even more than that.

 

_ Why does he always win with logic?  _ Steven silently muttered at himself. He could have ordered Alec to follow the Warlocks but that wasn’t really his style, he preferred to do things in a fair way, which included taking his Shadowhunters opinions on board, rather than just ordering them about. 

 

“Okay, I think you know there's only one way to settle this,” Steven said, shifting his battle axe from his right hand to his left and taking the measure of Alec, watching a corresponding grin to his own spread across Alec’s face. 

 

“Fair enough,” Alec replied with a chuckle, shifting his bow and the arrow that he had nocked into his left hand. “One two three,” he muttered, splaying his right hand, just as Steven brandished a fist at him. “Ha, Parchment beats Stone,” he crowed, wrapping his hand around Steven’s fist.

 

“Best of three!” Steven said, glaring at the shovel that was wrapped around his hand, Alec always won when they decided with a game of Stone, Parchment, Blade. A fact that he had forgotten. 

 

“Not likely, I won fair and square. I’d hurry if I was you, the Warlocks are getting away,” Alec chuckled, turning around and walking into the mundane that he had forgotten about in the adrenaline rush of Stone, Parchment, Blade. “Lead the way,” he said when the appalled mundane just stood there, staring at them in horror.

 

Alec followed the mundane when the man abruptly turned and ran down the road.  _ Steven isn’t living this one down for a year at least,  _ he thought to himself with a sly grin, ignoring the fact that he would have to face Jonathan after he banished the demon.

 

More adrenaline flooded Alec as he followed the crazy mundane, gearing him up for battle as the passed a few abandoned shacks that might once have been houses. Mundane wars over the last few decades had left a lot of the houses in Bucharest abandoned to weather and time, even if they were entering peaceful times. It hadn’t taken long for nature to reclaim the wood and mud that held them together.

 

Something else flooded Alec as they eventually neared one of the shacks and the man disappeared through the doorway, a need to get in there. The pull that he felt almost had him questioning whether he had made a mistake in telling Steven to go after the Warlocks. Maybe it was some kind of trick and he should have waited for backup. 

 

Alec shook the thought off, it was ridiculous. He was a trained shadowhunter, able to take out one demon. If a mundane had been able to get away from it, then surely it couldn’t be that bad. Huge claws and fangs notwithstanding. 

 

Following the mundane into the shack, Alec already had his bow aimed, placing his feet silently and very carefully as his eyes adjusted. It barely took a second, the ring of fire in the middle of the dark room lit it up enough for him to see. Expecting the walls to be red with mundane blood, he gaped around when he saw three mundanes grovelling on the floor outside the ring of flames.

 

Well, not all of them were mundanes, Alec caught a very, very faint whiff of cherry blossom, one of them was a Warlock perhaps? With very limited Warlock blood, he conceded. Something else caught his attention even faster. The “demon”.  _ Fuck! If that's a demon, take me to hell now!  _ He thought as he stared at the hot, shirtless man. 

 

“What is this?” Alec asked, squinting through the flames in confusion, even if he barely lowered his weapon. The only claws and fangs that he could see were the tiny ones of the kitten, sitting on the man’s wide, muscular, golden shoulder.  _ Fuck!  _

 

“What do you want with these people?” Alec asked the man who was trapped behind the flames, a little uncertainly. Surely the crazy mundane didn’t think that the man was a demon? Maybe they thought that the cat was a demon and the hot shirtless mundane had wondered into some archaic ritual by mistake? 

 

The sudden urge to free the man from the flames almost had Alec stepping forward. The training that he had spent his whole life learning screamed that it would be a mistake. The rest of him, his head, his heart, his soul told him to get the beautiful stranger out of there, now.

 

Magnus stared at the man in incomprehension, hidden in the shadows of the doorway, wondering what the man had asked, even if he couldn’t see his face properly. Something about the new stranger caught his attention, whether it was the sound of his deep, shiver-inducing voice, the bow aimed at him but lowering further by the second, or the eerily familiar stance, he wasn’t sure.

 

“Does anyone in this shithole speak English?” Magnus asked, the words coming out as a growl with his frustration.

 

Alec almost jumped in surprise. A recognition had pierced him like a bolt of lightning, even though he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from. Maybe the man’s husky voice, a voice that shouldn’t sound so familiar. But it did. He also hadn't expected the man to speak in English, everyone else, including him, speaking Wallachian.

 

“I asked, what you wanted with these men?” Alec repeated in English, unable to help himself from stepping forward to talk to the man, trapped inside what he recognised from his training as a summoning circle. Maybe he had never faced, or seen, or heard of anyone who had seen a demon. But that wasn’t important right now.

 

“I want to go home, and get into my bed, handsome,” Magnus said, staring at the vision before him, thinking it entirely unfair that he was only wearing pants while the stranger was covered up from chin to toes in leather. The stranger sure could pull it off though! 

 

“Maybe you could join me?” Magnus asked, startling himself. Not once in his… however many years that he had been alive, had he even considered taking someone to his bed. He was considering it now though, feeling an attraction that was new and strange to him. The stranger just had something about him, making him wish that the flames were gone so he could see what the stranger smelled like.

 

“What is going on here? Where is the demon with the large teeth and claws, and why do you have a mun… a man, trapped in the circle?” Alec asked the brothers, switching back to Wallachian.

 

The mundane who had fetched Alec seemed to have gone quiet all of a sudden. Raising his bow once more, he waved it in the man’s general direction when the mundane wouldn’t quite meet his eyes.

 

“That is the demon, we summoned him. He has to obey us! But he doesn’t. He is broken. He only wants to hurt us with his demon power,” 

 

“You think  _ he _ , is a demon?” Alec asked, his eyes flicking back to the handsome face, once again staring at him with incomprehension. “Why are you summoning… demons? And what are your plans for him?”  _ and why isn’t he wearing a shirt? And why do I want to throw myself at his feet too?  _ He silently added. The three mundanes, cowering on the floor, still hadn’t risen. 

 

“What happened…?” Alec asked, shuffling closer to the flames once more when he didn’t receive an answer, wondering why he wasn’t questioning himself for aiming his bow at the mundanes instead of the handsome man.

 

“The name is Bane,” Magnus said, realising that hot leather stranger was enquiring after it. “And as for what is going on, ask them. I was getting into bed, minding my own business when something took a hold of me and spat me out into this prison. I can assure you, dingy squats are not my usual hang out,” he said, shuffling forward too, giving in to the pull that seemed to have taken hold of him. 

 

It was the second pull that had taken over Magnus, of the night. This one, he didn’t mind though. He probably would have walked right into the flames, if the small cat on his shoulder hadn’t dug its claws in at that moment. 

 

“And you are?” Magnus asked, snapping out of the slobbering funk that he seemed determined to sink into.

 

“Lightwood,” Alec said, his own lips quirking up when Bane flashed him a charming smile that melted him into a metaphorical puddle, it was beautiful and looked utterly right on the man. Maybe he imagined it, but all of Bane’s muscles seemed to contract at once. All of them, distracting him as he watched them flex. The wink that Bane gave him had him wanting to rip his own shirt off and start flexing his own muscles. 

 

Actually, Alec wanted to kick all of the watching mundanes out of the room, step into the circle and rub his scent all over the man. Wanted to explore every one of those tantalising muscles for himself. With his fingers, with his tongue, he wouldn’t be complaining about either, maybe both. A scuffle, however, caught his attention. Shaking off the spell that he seemed to have fallen under, he turned on the brothers once more.

 

“Why have you been trying to summon demons?” Alec asked again, once more switching back to Wallachian, feeling more and more hostile towards the mundanes by the second. “And how, did you end up summoning him?” he added. There was no way Bane was a demon, his codex had mentioned that demons were slavering, mindless beasts and Bane was neither; if you didn’t count the drool.

 

“We are of the Conjocaru line. We found an old family book that tells how to summon a demon. My brother has the power of our ancestors! Now we can finally take our sheep, our land and our women back from those Ardelean scum. The demon will slay our enemies, returning what was stolen from us, and we shall bathe in their blood!”

 

Alec stared at the crazy mundane, realising that the man was even crazier than he had originally thought. They had tried to summon a demon, over a scrap of land and some sheep. The fact that “their women” were last on the list only made the matter more ridiculous.

 

“You think a cat is a demon who is going to save your land?” Alec asked confusedly when the crazy mundane started gesticulating at the circle of flames. The man must have been talking about the cat, although, he wasn’t sure what the mundanes thought a cat was going to do. Maybe it was a shapeshifter?

 

“Not the cat, the demon! The cat is the sacrifice. The demon will save our sheep. And we will bathe in our enemies blood!”

 

Magnus folded his arms across his chest, watching the exchange with fascination. The mundane seemed to be getting crazier by the second, waving his arms wildly and spitting with the passionate fervour of a fanatic. Lightwood looked as if he was about to explode, something he was very much looking forward to seeing, maybe it would be hot? He didn’t have to wait long.

 

“Are you insane? You tried to summon a demon, over some sheep?” Alec bellowed, his head throbbing from their stupidity. “Get the fuck out! All of you, before I set the demon on you!” he bellowed, drawing his bowstring taut. 

 

A snarl ripped from Alec when the tallest of the four tried to grab the book that the others seemed content to leave behind. Aiming his bow at the man, he watched as the book fell to the floor before the man bolted.

 

“As grateful as I am to my rescuer, I would just love to know what I am doing in the middle of…? In the middle of the night,” Magnus asked, still confused about where he was and what had happened exactly.

 

“Sorry, you are in Bucharest,” Alec said, slinging his bow over his shoulder and placing the arrow in the quiver at his back. “They thought that they could summon a demon to save their sheep. They somehow managed to summon you,” he muttered, once more distracted by Bane’s shoulders.  _ Good lord, they are perfection!  _ He had never considered taking a mate but he thought if he could, he would gladly take this man.  _ Too bad he’s a mundane.  _ The thought opened up the hole in his stomach just a little bit wider.

 

Alec’s breath caught when the kitten jumped down from Bane’s shoulders and the man turned to retrieve it before it could streak through the fire. The scars on Bane’s shoulder blades, long, vertical scars, were exactly the same as the ones on his own shoulders, the same as the scars on all of the Shadowhunters that he knew. The sight of them made him want to reach through the flames and stroke his fingers over the pink ridges of tissue. 

 

“That is preposterous, I’m not a demon,” Magnus muttered, leaving his new friend on the floor when the cat made it clear that he had no intention of running through the flames, silently adding,  _ I’m a Warlock.  _ Somehow, he thought that the beautiful mundane who had saved him might not appreciate that. Some places in the world burned their witches at the stake.

 

“That’s what I told them,” Alec said, searching Bane’s eyes when the man straightened up. “The scars, on your back, how did you get them?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t being too presumptuous as he continued to stare into the beautiful angular eyes. The peculiar thought that they were the wrong colour flashed across his mind. For some reason, he thought that they should be lighter, gold like his smooth skin.

 

“I don’t know, they’ve always been there,” Magnus shrugged, his eyes flicking from Lightwood’s left eye to his right, wondering just how many different shades of brown, gold and green they contained. They were the most stunning eyes that he had ever seen, beautiful and bottomless enough to fall into. Not that he wouldn’t mind the fall.

 

The thought had Magnus jerking, as though someone had hooked his stomach and yanked it. Shaking it off, along with the wave of dizziness that accompanied it, he raised an eyebrow when confusion and surprise flitted through the beautiful hazel. 

 

“I have the scars too,” Alec whispered, eyes flitting to search Bane’s eyes for the answers to the fifty questions that had sprung up. As far as he knew, only Shadowhunters had the scars, and none of them knew how they had gotten there. Moving on instinct when he saw the curiosity and surprise in Bane’s eyes, he unslung his bow and unbuttoned his coat, pulling it off along with his undershirt before turning to show Bane his scars.

 

Magnus stared when Lightwood pulled his coat and shirt off, his stomach sinking into the floor when the man’s black runes were revealed. Lightwood’s body was beautiful and he felt as though he knew where each of those runes should be placed but they were still runes.

 

“Shadowhunter,” Magnus breathed, staring at Lightwood’s back, at the black runes that he wanted to flick his tongue over and the long, vertical scars, the perfect match of his own, that he wanted to run his fingers over.

 

Alec’s head snapped around when he heard the word, staring at Bane over his shoulder. The look of desolation there had him spinning around, wanting to reach through the flames and pull Bane to him.

 

“How do you know that word?” Alec asked, his coat and undershirt falling from limp fingers. From the expression on Bane’s face, he was pretty sure that didn’t want to know.

 

“I am a Warlock,” Magnus said, the words barely more than a whisper. Sure, he could have lied and said that he had heard it somewhere but he didn’t want to lie to this man. This beautiful stranger who didn’t look or feel like a stranger at all. 

 

Keeping his eyes glued to curls of hair on Lightwood’s chest, unwilling to look up and see the disgust in the Shadowhunter’s eyes, Magnus’ stomach rolled. He wasn’t disgusted by the discovery that Lightwood was a Shadowhunter, just sad and lonely. But a Shadowhunter would think like that, look at him with disgust. And he didn’t want to see it, not from Lightwood.

 

Now Alec understood the desolation on Bane’s face. They were mortal enemies. There was no chance that he could take this man in his arms, into his life. The connection that pulled him to this man must be a lie because he wasn’t allowed to have him. 

 

There was only one thing that Alec could do, set the Warlock free. Yes, he was supposed to take the Warlock into the institute, supposed to try and get information out of him. But the only thing Alec wanted from this man was a promise that he would stay as far away from Shadowhunters, who would hunt him, as possible. That was a lie, he wanted everything from Bane, wanted Bane. Period. 

 

Magnus looked up when Lightwood shuffled, watching his face as the Shadowhunter glanced at the circle of flames that surrounded him, he had almost forgotten that he was in a trap. The disgust that he had thought he would see wasn’t there. Instead, he saw longing, desolation and a desperation that matched his own. 

 

“Do you know what’s funny?” Magnus asked, capturing Lightwood’s attention once more. “I feel drawn to you, as though… you seem so familiar... as if I should know you. It’s kind of like what I always imagined the pull of a mate would feel like,” he said, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

 

“Me too. I don’t even know you, haven’t even scented you and I feel like this emptiness that I’ve lived with for so long is almost gone, I feel like you fill me up,” Alec said, pausing in his inspection of the ingredients that littered the floor to let his eyes flick up to Magnus’. “And just so you know, I would never be ashamed to take you as my mate. Worried, for your safety, yes, scared that the rest of them would come for you, absolutely. But never ashamed,” he said, feeling the truth of the words in his soul.

 

“Me either,” Magnus said, smiling through his heartbreak at the smile that graced Lightwood’s beautiful face. The smile almost made him want to stay right where he was forever; if Lightwood would stay on the other side of those flames. Stay with him.

 

“I’ve missed that smile,” Magnus said, the words coming out automatically, even if they felt true. Obviously, he didn’t mean  _ missed _ … did he? 

 

Alec’s eyebrows quirked up as he searched the face that looked back at him with confusion rolling through his pretty brown eyes. They were the wrong eyes. “Can I... see them?” Alec asked haltingly, wondering what he was even asking for.

 

Going on some instinct that was nestled inside him, Magnus dropped his glamour, wondering if Lightwood would run screaming from the room as the mundanes had. The look of wonder that filled Alec’s eyes when he met his hazel gaze had his stomach and his heart doing flips in his body.  _ No, not wonder, love.  _

 

Alec didn’t even think. Blinking back the images that had started to flick through his head at the sight of the beautiful golden cat eyes, he reached out, wanting to touch the Warlock, to feel the shape of those eyes beneath the pads of his fingers, feel the Warlock’s eyelashes brush against them.

 

“Stop, you can’t come in here, you’ll be trapped as well,” Magnus said, taking a step back when Lightwood took one forward. Living things could walk through the flames from the outside, the cat had proved as much, but if Lightwood stepped into the circle, he would be trapped too.

 

“Seems like a small price to pay,” Alec said, taking another step, one that carried him through the cold flames and into the circle. He had been powerless to stop himself, finally giving into the desperate pull when he had seen Bane’s eyes and the images that had flooded his head, hundreds of images of those eyes, looking at him in a hundred different ways. 

 

Being trapped with the Warlock seemed like a small price to pay to be able to hold him. It was no price at all.

 

A shudder ran through Magnus’ body, creeping up his spine and finding purchase in his lungs when Lightwood stepped into the circle and it filled with the most beautiful scent he had ever smelled in his life. The scent of Sandalwood and Alpha filled the circle, filled him up, drawing a noise from him that was half a gasp of surprise and half a sigh of relief. 

 

Reaching out, Magnus caught his Alpha when he stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around the Shadowhunter’s waist. “I’ve got you, Alexander,” he whispered in Alec’s ear when his Alpha moulded himself to his chest, the name appearing in his head, as though it had been there all along. The feeling of Alec’s arms wrapping around him, of scratchy chest hair, scraping across his own smooth chest, felt like home. As did the beautiful scent.

 

Alec wondered if his lungs would be able to expand enough to hold Magnus’ beautiful scent within them for an eternity.  _ Magnus. My Omega, Magnus.   _ Sliding his arms around Magnus’ back, he clutched his mate to him, only loosening his grip slightly when Magnus winced in his arms. 

 

“I’m sorry, my love,” Alec whispered in Magnus’ ear, stroking his fingers over Magnus’ shoulder blades, knowing how much it hurt when his own shoulders were jostled too hard or they took the impact of a blow against them. It hurt like a bitch.

 

“Fuck!” Magnus gasped when Alec’s fingers brushed over his scars, the pleasure of the sensation skittering down his spine. Never once, in his entire life, had he associated the scars with pleasure. Only ever pain, or a dull ache at least.

 

Alec shuddered in Magnus’ hold when Magnus’ fingers found his own scars, the tingles that shot through him like nothing else. Unthinking, he nosed Magnus’ face up and claimed his lips. Not a soft, gentle peck, but a proper kiss, one that he put everything that he was feeling into. 

 

Magnus didn’t even need a second to get on board with Alec’s thinking, knowing that it had been too long, however much time that might have been; since they had held each other. Sinking into Alec’s embrace and kiss, he watched their story play out behind his closed eyelids, memory after memory flashing through his head. The images were confusing,  too many of them, playing out of sequence but he caught one with his magic.

 

Alec blinked the images back when Magnus pulled back slightly. A wave of Magnus’ hand and snap of his fingers had him holding a piece of parchment in his hands.

 

“Your daughter,” Magnus whispered, showing Alec the image that he had snatched from the deluge, watching Alec’s eyes fill with tears before they flicked up to meet his. Just for a moment. Until the image stole his attention again.

 

“Catarina, she’s so big! How long?” Alec gasped, staring at an drawing of Magnus and a blue-skinned woman, sitting on a couch and holding wine glasses. He didn’t know how Magnus had gotten this memory but he could see his little girl in the woman’s face, in her kind, determined eyes. How could he have ever forgotten that stubborn determination?

 

“I don’t know,” Magnus said honestly, trying to think of how long they had been away from her. “She’s all grown up, an Omega. I’ve managed to see her a few times since this mess began. She misses you,” he said, pressing his lips to Alec’s cheek, nuzzling into Alec’s skin, wanting to stay there forever.

 

“Our girl, an Omega! I miss her too, so much. I love her, almost as much as I love you,” Alec said, trying to work out where his love for them fell on a scale. Magnus won by a hair, it was close though. Letting his eyes fall closed as he held Magnus’ hot body to him, he watched more images of her appear.

 

A small laugh burst from Alec as he remembered Cat’s stubborn determination once more. It was always “just one more” with Cat, one more bedtime story, one more oatcake or piece of fruit, one more lap… one more… one more lap of the lake. Of flying over the lake. With her beautiful wings. 

 

“Magnus?” Alec asked, his voice shaking when Magnus tensed in his arms. The pit in his stomach that his mate had filled seemed to stretch out, along with the moment when he met Magnus’ scared eyes.

 

“I love you, Alexander, just hold on. She will free us,” Magnus said, searching through the impossibly bright glow of his mate’s face before smashing his face forward, catching Alec’s lips in a tooth clashing kiss.

 

Alec slammed his lips to Magnus’, the reassuring words ringing in his ears as his world restricted to his family. Before the cold darkness claimed him once more.

 

The ghost of Alec’s lips on his own lingered when the fire consumed Magnus. Tears streamed down his face as he silently begged Alec to stay with him for a moment longer before the mundane world disappeared. 

 

Reality, along with the ground slammed into Magnus, driving the air from his lungs. Curling into a ball, he couldn’t say that he cared all that much that he could barely breathe.

 

Maybe Magnus would have stayed there, in his ball of misery if two loud, grunting thuds hadn’t caught his attention. Sitting up, his watery eyes landed on a woman with bright red hair and bright red eyes, dressed in a simple black gown. And a man, his hair brown and distraught eyes black, dressed in brown pyjama pants, similar to his own. A fresh deluge of memories sprang up when he saw their confused expressions as their heads whipped around.

 

“Clary? Simon?” Magnus asked as image after image paraded through his mind, making him wonder how long it had been since he had last seen them. They hadn’t been present in his life, not even a single memory of them. But the holes that had always been there filled in just a little as he stared at his two best friends.

 

“Not again, why does this have to happen every time?” Simon asked, his arms feeling empty as they wrapped around his stomach, instead of the mate that he had been holding a moment before.  He made to stand up before crashing back down onto his ass, every memory that he had ever possessed filling his mind, all at once, leaving him breathless. “Isabelle?” he breathed, looking around for his mate.

 

Clary clutched her knees to her chest, already being assaulted by images of her mate, of her friends, her parents. Everything that she had been missing, flooding into her, filling her up but leaving her just as empty as she was before. She had had none of it, for her entire life. Or her latest one at least. Focussing on the fork full of beef that she had been eating, which had fallen to the floor when she had landed, she did her best to just breathe.

 

“Did you see them?” Magnus asked, his eyes flicking between Clary and Simon. The shake of Clary’s head and the tears that rolled down her cheeks pushed his own grief down as he crawled across the floor to wrap her up in his arms, letting her sink into him. 

 

“I did. I was just holding her in my arms,” Simon said, also crawling across the floor to sandwich Clary in between his and Magnus’ bodies. “I was sleeping when something woke me, her scent. It was so beautiful, it jolted me from the dreams,” he said, grasping Magnus’ hand when it reached for his own.

 

“I opened my eyes and she was there, standing over me, just staring down at me,” Simon said, his body still tingling from where Izzy had crashed into him. Maybe if he hadn’t lived in a treehouse with Meliorn for the last… however long, she might not have even found him. Izzy had told him that she regularly portalled out of the Gard in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep and had followed it when she had caught his scent. And then the light had swallowed her up.

 

“I never saw him,” Clary said, burying her face in Magnus’ neck, trying to use his comforting scent to keep the pain at bay. All her life, she had felt empty, just as empty as Helen Blackthorn, her surrogate mother had. They had found as much comfort in each other as they could, but it had never been enough for either of them. 

 

And now Clary knew why. Because neither of them had ever had their mates. They had had a house in The Cape of Good Hope, at the tip of the African continent, they had had each other, but it had never been enough. 

 

“I was captured by stupid mundanes, held captive in a summoning circle when Alexander found me, we got some time together, I even managed to show him a picture of Catarina,” Magnus said, refraining from commenting on how it wasn’t enough. At least he and Simon had gotten more than Clary had. “This is my fault, Clary, I’m so sorry...” he said, his head snapping up when the doors to the throne room opened to reveal his father.

 

“No, it isn’t, Magnus. It's his! It is all his fault,” Clary screamed, elbowing her friends off of her and launching herself to her feet when she saw Asmodeus. “Every miserable second that we spend ripped in two from the other halves of our souls is his fault! Because he is a selfish asshole; because he is greedy and couldn’t see what he could have had. All he saw was power. And now, we are the ones paying the price!” The amused expression on Asmodeus’ face had her lashing out with her magic.

 

Asmodeus didn’t have time to raise a shield. Neither of Magnus’ friends had ever lifted a finger against him so he hadn’t been expecting the sudden outpour of magic that had swept him off of his feet and slammed him into the doors behind him.

 

Magnus and Simon weren’t far behind when Clary attacked Asmodeus, both of them adding their magic to hers when they saw Asmodeus move to defend himself against her. The snarls that ripped from all of them could have woken the dead but none of them cared, too distraught with the loss of their mates to hold back their anger.

 

Asmodeus sent his ungrateful brat of a son and his two stupid friends back to the mortal realm with a blink of his eyes, screaming in pain when he collapsed to the floor, the aftereffects of their magic shuddering through his burning veins. So much for a reunion with his son.

 

“I will not be attacked in my own house!” Asmodeus screamed into the pervading silence, thankful that Cat was out of the palace for the night. One outburst of magic from her if she found out that she had missed her father would probably finish him off. Or weaken him enough for her to take his realm from him. Either way, she wasn’t there to see him fall.

 

**

 

**_Idris_ **

  
  


Jonathan looked down at Izzy, lying in the middle of the crater, crying her eyes out as her legs kicked at the air. Shaking his head, he knelt and added to the collection of tiny runes,  marking her with her angelic rune, ignoring the crying when it got louder. 

 

“You were such a disappointment, Isabelle. Why are you so wilful?” Jonathan asked, wrapping her up in a blanket when the rune was complete. Her entire past life, she had defied him at every turn, always sneaking off, always complaining about being stifled by the Gard, to the point that he had considered sending her to Wrangle Island, just to get some peace.

 

“I thought that separating the three of you would save the other two if one of you found them. Turns out I was wrong. I suppose that this is what comes from them punishing all three of you together, you must all be linked,” Jonathan said as he started marking Jace with his rune.

 

Jonathan had never had three of them sent to him at the same time, they always came one by one. The thought that they could be separated out had him shaking his head, they were going to trigger each other, no matter where they were in the world.

 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Jonathan muttered, raising his eyes to the heavens before starting on Alec’s angelic rune. Wrapping Alec up as tightly as he had the other two, Jonathan rose when a portal opened. 

 

“Trueblood, take these three back to your institute. I’d say try to keep them out of trouble but I know it would be pointless,” Jonathan said when Maryse Trueblood, head of the Luxembourg Institute appeared at his side.

 

Scooping them up, one by one, Jonathan bundled the babies into Maryse’ arms, shaking his head at the curious look she gave him before she turned on her heel and reentered her portal.

 

Jonathan stretched out and rolled his shoulders, ready to return to the Gard and head to bed, it was where he had been heading when he had felt the pull of a reset. Feeling the pull again had him sighing. Instead of returning home, he opened a portal, wishing the night would be over already. But duty called and another reset meant sleep would just have to wait so he stepped through and headed for Wales.

 

**

 

**_Madrid._ **

 

Lorenzo stepped from his portal, sighing deeply when he reached the centre of the crater and found Magnus, Clary and Simon lying in the middle of it. This would be his second reset of the night and he wanted to go home already. The three troublesome Warlocks had been relatively quiet during their last lives, rarely giving him any cause for irritation but each of them had had their moments.

 

“I should have known it would be you three,” Lorenzo muttered, resigned to the fact that they would always trip each other’s curses, no matter how much distance he put between them. Snapping his fingers, he had the three of them wrapped up tightly and was debating where to send them.

 

Snapping his fingers once more, he scribbled a quick-fire message and sent it with a flick of his wrist. “Germany is always nice this time of year,” he mused with a grin. Even if it was the middle of winter.

 

“Take all three of them,” Lorenzo said when a portal opened next to him and Lucian Greymark stepped out of it. The Alpha was a giant of a man next to him, always serious looking and he tolerated no bullshit from anyone. 

 

If he was being honest with himself, even Lorenzo was a bit scared of Greymark, the man always stared at him with disdain whenever they met, which wasn’t very often for that reason. Hopefully, Greymark would be able to keep them in line.

 

Lorenzo created another portal when Greymark took the children without a word and returned to Germany through his portal, decidedly not shuddering from the raised eyebrow Lucian had given him. It had been a busy night and he was in need of his beauty sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to throw a bit of Maruke in there somewhere.


	5. 1739

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are y'all coping after this week's episode? I'm firmly entrenched in denial.

**_Luxembourg city._ **

 

“Arms out for balance, back straight, shoulders back, don’t look down,” Jace said, leaning against the trunk of the tree with his arms folded across his chest. The monumental eye roll that his young ward, his surrogate daughter, gave him had him fighting his lips. “Don’t look at me like that, Claire, just do as I say and you’ll be fine,” he said.

 

“Dad! How can I see where I’m going if I don’t look down?” Claire asked, locking her shaking muscles down, desperately trying not to think of the ten-foot drop below her. 

 

“You’ll fall if you look down. Use me as a focal point to get your balance. That’s right, now walk,” Jace said, nodding his encouragement when the young Shadowhunter in training fixed her eyes on him and started walking across the tree branch. “Excellent, we’ll make a Shadowhunter out of you yet,” he said when she reached him and grabbed at his thick leather coat to keep her balance.

 

“I’m already a Shadowhunter,” Claire said, arching one delicate brow as she held her arm out and yanked the sleeve of her thick coat up, showing her dad her runes to prove her point.

 

“Oh? And how many Warlocks have you taken down?” Jace asked, swinging Claire up onto his hip and stepping off of the branch. Holding her tightly, he landed in the grass lightly, bending his knees to absorb the impact before setting her down.

 

“None, but I will, as soon as I get my first mission!” Claire proclaimed, drawing herself up to her full height. Nobody could tell her that she wasn’t a Shadowhunter!

 

This was exactly why Jace loved the girl, she took no bullshit. Claire Snowglade was five years old and as hard as nails. Something about the child called to him. Just as reckless as he was, Claire was convinced that she was far more capable than she was. Fiery, always acting first and thinking later, she took risks and damn the consequences. And she never let anyone tell her what to do. Except him.

 

“So, what’s next? You gonna take me on my first mission or what?” Claire asked, flicking her blonde hair out of her eyes to look up at him.

 

“Funny. You’ve only just learned how to get your balance and you want to go chasing Warlocks already?” Jace asked, laughing when Claire narrowed her cool blue gaze on him. “I’ve got something much more dangerous in mind,” he said conspiratorially, kneeling down to look her in the eye.

 

“What?” Claire asked in a whisper, her head snapping around to look for the danger. The flopping in her stomach wasn’t nerves, it was excitement, she told herself.

 

“Izzy made us lunch,” Jace said, his face solemn. A laugh escaped him when his daughter rolled her eyes and aimed a left hook at his face. Deftly dodging her admittedly strong punch, he straightened up to retrieve the bag of food that Izzy had prepared for them when he had told her that he was taking Claire out for a training session.

 

Claire joined Jace at the trunk of the tree and unfolded the blanket that he handed her, in two minds about whether to brave the food. Everyone knew that Izzy couldn’t cook, no matter how often Mother had tried to teach her.  _ Maryse,  _ she silently corrected herself. They were supposed to call her Maryse but everyone called her mother. Because that was what she was to them all.

 

Jace sat down on the blanket and emptied the bag out onto it, grinning when Claire breathed out a sigh of relief. It was an appropriate response. There was no way for Izzy to fuck up half a loaf of bread, some chunks of pork and a few slices of cheese. Opening the wineskin and sniffing it, he sighed when he realised that it contained water. Probably a good idea since Claire was with him.

 

Jace had to laugh when he ripped a chunk of bread off and handed it over to her with some of the meat and cheese, and she started devouring it. She was just like him. Everything she did was a carbon copy of him, leading him to think about how Claire had come into his life and stolen his heart.

 

Maryse, his surrogate mother and Head of the Luxembourg Institute, had received a fire message from Jonathan Shadowhunter one morning, asking her to send someone from the Institute to the settlement of Godthåb in Greenland. Of course, he had been the only one who wasn’t out on patrol at the time so she had asked him to go. 

 

When Jace had stepped out of the portal, he had found himself on the edge of a crater, in the middle of a freezing snowy glade. That hadn’t been the thing that had surprised him the most. The baby Shadowhunter that Jonathan had handed him had been a shock.

 

_ “Lightwood. This is Claire Snowglade. Take her back to your Institute and train her. And as hard as it might be for you, try to keep her out of trouble.” _

 

With that, Jonathan had handed him the screaming baby girl and he had returned to the institute by portal, holding the child and wondering what he was supposed to do with her.

 

_ “You’re supposed to raise her to be a Shadowhunter.”  _ Maryse had chuckled at Jace when he had asked her, terrified of fucking the poor child up. The answer had had him gaping at his mother with incredulity. Who in their right mind would trust him with a baby?

 

Maryse’ response to that had been, _ “How do you think I felt? I had three of you to look after. You will cope, just like I did.” _ To say that he had been sceptical was an understatement.

 

But, Jace had surprised everyone by rising to the challenge and raising a fine warrior. Even if he did say so himself. Maybe nobody had been more surprised than he had.

 

At first, Jace had been worried that he would get it wrong, that he wouldn’t be able to cope. The long nights as he had seen her through night feeds and teething, the even longer days of chamber pot training and teaching Claire how to walk and talk had been an eye-opener. 

 

But Jace had used the same guidance that Maryse had brought him and his siblings up with and Maryse, Alec and Izzy had helped him along the way. And somehow, he had ended up with a daughter, and she a father.

 

Jace, Izzy and Alec had had a good childhood. Maryse had raised them in the Luxembourg Institute, teaching them how to fight, how to become great Shadowhunters.  _ And she obviously did a great job _ , he thought with a grin. 

 

Sure, they had been lonely. They ran on very little sleep most days, plagued by dreams that would disappear with the rising sun but they’d had each other to lean on. And it had been fun growing up in the huge church that was their home. There was always somewhere to run around, always a training session for him to whoop his siblings’ butts at. Always someone to share his deepest fears and greatest accomplishments with. 

 

The dreams were one of the hardest parts of being responsible for Claire. Most nights she would wander into his room, a lost expression on her little face, asking him why she couldn’t remember them. Claire asked him a lot of questions that he couldn’t answer. Why did she feel like she missed someone that she didn’t know? Why did she have weird scars on her back? Why did her head always hurt when she tried to remember things? Why did her shoulders constantly hurt?

 

They were the same questions that Jace had asked Maryse when he was a child. His siblings too. Maybe their mother had asked her guardians the same questions when she had been a child too. The fact still remained, the questions had always gone unanswered. It was just a fact of life when you were a Shadowhunter.

 

Claire watched Jace as she ate her lunch, her eyes flicking over his face. Her dad was fun, always willing to teach her something new or let her run through the park after her training sessions or let her sleep in his bed when the dreams came and she couldn’t get back to sleep on her own. But he spent a lot of time gazing off into the distance, lost in thought.

 

In fact, Jace was so lost to his thoughts that he didn’t notice the shadow that crept up behind him. But Claire did. Doing her best to school her features, she reached for another chunk of bread, trying not to grin when Izzy pressed a finger to her lips before pouncing on Jace.

 

Jace gripped his sister’s arms when they tried to come around his neck and flipped her over his body, slamming her down into the ground where he proceeded to wrestle her for dominance. As if she could have masked the scent of orange blossom that surrounded her, he would recognise it anywhere.

 

Claire forgot all about the bread and cheese that her dad and Izzy were rolling around on and launched herself into the fray with a delighted scream, trying to grab Izzy’s arms and pin them so that she would submit to them.

 

“Get her, Claire, pin her down,” Jace yelled, the words turning to a grunt when an elbow landed in his gut, that he was pretty sure belonged to Claire, and one of Izzy’s knees landed in his groin. With watering eyes, he withdrew, barely able to breathe from the feeling of his balls lodging themselves in his stomach.

 

“Submit!” Claire yelled when she sat on Izzy’s chest, pinning Izzy’s arms with her knees and holding a wooden seraph blade to the woman’s throat.

 

“Fine, I submit. You win, fearsome Shadowhunter!” Izzy exclaimed, putting her palms up in surrender. The superior smirk that lit up Claire’s face had her grinning, the child was just like Jace, his little mini-me they all called her.

 

Jace looked up through watery eyes when a stele floated in front of his face, still wheezing from his aching balls. Gladly accepting Alec’s stele, he quickly activated his Iratze.

 

“I felt that one,” Alec said sympathetically, patting Jace’s shoulder when his brother started breathing properly again. Pulling Jace up by the shoulders of his coat, he offered Jace the support of his arm to help his brother back to the blanket.

 

“Thanks,” Jace muttered, sinking onto the blanket and looking up. “Mother? Have you shut the Institute down for the day?” he asked Maryse when she joined them on the blanket. Their mother barely ever joined them, always too busy with clave business.

 

“Your brother managed to convince me that even Shadowhunters need fresh air now and then,” Maryse replied, patting Jace’s shoulder too. She didn’t have balls but judging by the way Jace had almost collapsed from the blow, it looked like it had hurt.

 

Maryse gave Claire a hug when the child let Izzy up, smiling when the girl squeezed her neck before running off through the grass. The air was certainly fresh, crisp with winter setting in. That didn’t seem to bother Claire though.

 

“We decided to take the afternoon off and join you and Claire. Alec took some convincing at first but he soon came around, he even managed to drag Mother out,” Izzy grinned when they all settled on the blanket. Adjusting the hoops of her dress when Maryse raised an eyebrow at her, she sat contritely. It was always a losing battle to wear the hose and breeches and the knee length leather coats that her brothers wore when it came to Maryse so she had meekly put a dress on today. 

 

Izzy had decided it was easier to just agree and forgo the more comfortable garments, rather than arguing. Maryse’ ethos was that a Shadowhunter should be able to fight in anything. Their surrogate mother always wore black dresses and panniers, even when she was chasing Warlocks or fighting demons, just to prove a point. Remembering the torture sessions that Maryse had put her through as a young woman, teaching her to fight in the constricting garments, still brought a shudder to Izzy’s spine.

 

“What have you been working on?” Alec asked when Claire came running back to them, a serious case of deja vu striking him when she handed them all clumps of half-dead dandelions that had managed to soldier on, despite the cool weather.

 

“We were doing a tree walk, weren’t we Dad?” Claire said, smiling shyly up at Alec as she handed him some flowers. Only Izzy knew that Alec was going to be her boyfriend when she was grown up. Izzy had told her that Alec might not want to be her boyfriend in a gentle voice but she knew that Izzy was wrong because Alec was very handsome. 

 

“Sure we were,” Jace said, shaking the dizziness off that had overcome him when Claire had started handing flowers out. Glancing at his brother and sister, he saw that they looked just as confused as he did. Shaking it off, he held his arms out for his daughter. “Why don’t we show them what we’ve learned?” he asked.

 

Claire wasted no time in skittering up the tree, keen to show off her new skills. Obviously, she was already an expert in walking over tree branches and it was imperative that she show them all right away. A giggle escaped her when everyone stood up to watch, her dad following her into the trees.

 

Jace climbed as fast as his daughter did, watching every hand and foot she placed to climb the tree, and emerged onto the branch after Claire. They had been at it the entire morning and he had decided that she deserved a lunch break after her first successful attempt at doing it by herself.

 

Claire didn’t need to hold onto Jace’s hands now that she knew how to balance. Carefully examining the thick branch of the next tree, she took aim and jumped across, wobbling when she landed but righting herself immediately.

 

Jace felt a wave of pride bloom in his stomach when Claire continued on her path through the thick tree branches. Stepping onto the next tree in one stride, he continued to follow her, occasionally glancing down to make sure there was someone to catch her if she fell. Not that he was worried, Claire had all of the natural grace of any shadowhunter that he knew.

 

Alec, Izzy and Maryse all strolled along beneath the trees, making the appropriate noises whenever Claire made an exceptionally large jump or climbed higher to reach another branch in her tree walk. They would make a Shadowhunter out of her yet.

  
  


**

 

**_Berlin_ **

  
  


Clary peeked over the top of her cards, her eyes flicking first in Magnus’ direction, then to Simon, her eyes narrowed as she took in their faces. Magnus’ face was set, giving nothing away, eyeing her right back. Simon had a little more difficulty hiding his disappointment. 

 

Looking back down at her cards once more, Clary kept her face straight. If she could pick up the seven or ten of cups, she would win the game. Or three or six of swords, she conceded. 

 

“Make your move, Fray. I can feel the wrinkles creeping over my visage as we wait,” Magnus growled, looking at his own sorry hand. It was a rather pathetic collection of cards but that didn’t mean he couldn’t bluff his way to victory.

 

Clary flipped Magnus off before dutifully picking another card from the pile, holding her breath as she flipped it over and inspected it. The three of shields.  _ For fuck’s sake, Magnus is going to win this one, again!  _ She was pretty sure he was cheating somehow.

 

Simon snatched up the card that Clary put down and added it to his own with a grin. Slamming his seven cards down, a laugh burst from him.

 

“Read it and weep, losers!” Simon crowed, spreading out his cards, a perfect winning hand. Laughing at the death glares that his friends aimed in his direction, he scooped all of the coins off of the table and added them to his purse, weighing the bulging sack in his hand.

 

“You cheated!” Magnus growled, glaring at Simon’s straight flush as he slammed his own motley collection down, he hadn’t even been close.

 

“How did I cheat? No magic, remember?” Simon said, arching his brow at Magnus. “Don’t be a sore loser, Magnus. I won fairly. It’s not my fault you are so bad at cards,” he said, ignoring the fact that Magnus was usually an excellent card player.  _ Must be the lack of magic, he can’t cheat us out of our money without it _ . The thought had his grin widening.

 

Clary dropped her own cards down onto the table, staring incredulously at Simon. The bluff that he had been losing had been so believable that she hadn’t even questioned it.  _ That snake!  _

 

“Don’t bother, I’ve lost enough already today,” Clary said, holding her hands up when Simon picked all of the cards up and started shuffling them. “I need some air. I’m headed out for a ride,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table and gathering her skirts for the laborious task of standing up.

 

“Do you want some company?” Magnus asked, ready to rise from his chair if his surrogate sister needed him. The stable was always the first place that Clary turned to when she was feeling down, that or her studio. Saying ‘feeling down’ would be an understatement, she suffered more than any of them from the loneliness that haunted them all. It almost crippled her on a daily basis.

 

“No, I’m fine. Stay and try to win some money back from this scoundrel,” Clary said with a tight smile, gesturing for Simon to start dealing the two of them a new hand and watching every move in case Simon tried some sleight of hand to gain an advantage. Receiving a pat on the hand when she clasped Magnus’ shoulder in thanks, she headed for the doors.

 

The rush of magic that flooded Clary when she left the drawing room of the manor house that she had grown up in, along with Magnus and Simon, was a relief. They had had to start playing cards under a magical loop when the cheating had gotten out of hand. But that was what came from playing cards with Warlocks. 

 

Turning for the double doors at the back of the house, every step towards her beloved horse, Goldie, named for the golden mane that shone from the stallion's otherwise pure white coat, made breathing a little easier. The miserable funks that she tended to slip into always started with a tight chest.

 

Snapping her fingers, Clary produced a deep red and gold, floor-length riding jacket and shrugged it on, buttoning it at her waist as she headed for the stables, letting the material settle over the wide red skirts of her dress. A black, veiled top hat and a pair of leather riding gloves appeared with another snap of her fingers. It was cold out.

 

Clary was just pushing through the double doors that led to the stables when a voice called out after her. A genuine smile was already spreading over her face when she turned to find her surrogate father, Lucian Greymark, hurrying to catch up to her. She loved her family equally but Luke had a way of making her feel safe and grounded.

 

“Luke, I was just heading out for a ride. Care to join me?” Clary asked, her smile faltering when she caught the solemn expression on Luke’s face. “What is it?” she asked, her stomach lurching for some reason that she couldn’t fathom.

 

“Clary… I…” Luke started, looking down at the girl who was, for all intents and purposes, his daughter. Pushing down the sadness that was trying to claw its way up from his stomach, he tried to think of how to phrase the words that would break her heart. Shaking his head, he took her hand and tugged. “Come with me,” he said.

 

Clary followed her surrogate father through the manor house, too afraid to ask what was wrong. Luke was always such a happy man. Well, as happy as he could be with the holes that filled him, just as surely as they filled her and her surrogate brothers. 

 

All of them had discussed the loneliness that consumed them on a daily basis and Luke was no different to her, Magnus and Simon. Their father was also plagued by the dreams and the aches that beset them. But, he had always put his best face on for them, had been a good father to them and raised them as best he could. And they all loved him for it.

 

_ Why does it feel like everything is about to change?  _ Clary wondered as she followed Luke into his library. The sight that greeted them stopped her in her tracks. Lorenzo Rey, a smug smile on his smarmy face, was sitting behind Luke’s desk, sipping at a cup of something that she hoped was poisonous. The High Warlock’s appearances usually foreshadowed misery.

 

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I tried to argue on your behalf but he was having none of it,” Luke said, his face like stone. It was the usual expression that he wore when faced with Lorenzo Rey. While he was usually a gentleman with anyone else, the High Warlock rubbed him the wrong way and always brought out the worst in him.

 

“What is going on, and what are you doing here?” Clary asked Lorenzo, giving Luke’s hand a squeeze and not bothering to repress the distinction that she had put on the word “ _ you”.  _ She didn’t like Lorenzo Rey, pure and simple. But then again, did anyone? 

 

“Is that any way to greet your superior?” Lorenzo asked, glaring at Clary, wondering why she always felt the need to talk to him like that.

 

“I hope you don’t mean yourself,” Clary muttered under her breath, ignoring the seat that Lorenzo was gesturing to.

 

“I didn’t quite catch that?” Lorenzo said, raising an eyebrow at Clary, and the smirk that Lucian tried to hide behind his hand. Losing his patience when he didn’t receive an answer, he snapped his fingers and watched as the two chairs opposite him flew out. “Sit!” he said.

 

Clary didn’t bother holding back the sigh that escaped her as she took the seat. The sooner she heard what Rey had to say for himself, the sooner he would be out of her hair.

 

Luke sat down next to Clary, against his better judgement, and took her hand in his own. If he had had his way, he would have kicked Lorenzo out of his home and banished the man somewhere cold and secluded. Lorenzo was the High Warlock, however, so he sat quietly and waited for Lorenzo to speak, not wanting to be the one to break the news.

 

“I require an assistant, Clary,” Lorenzo said without any further ado. “You will pack up your things and move to my house,” he said.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Clary asked, positive that she had misheard the man. Looking to Luke to see if it was some sort of cruel joke, her stomach once again started flopping when she saw the pained expression on his face. 

 

“I have several jobs for you that require your presence. So you will be moving to the house. There is no need to kick up a fuss, I already have a bedchamber picked out for you where you will be more than comfortable,” Lorenzo shrugged, neglecting to mention that she had already once called that bedchamber her own in a previous life.

 

“No,” Clary said, sitting back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest. There was no way she could leave her family, she needed them to stay sane.

 

“It wasn’t a request, it was an order,” Lorenzo said, crossing his own arms across his chest to mirror her defensive pose. “It is time that you started pulling your weight. You have lived a life of extravagance here, barely a mission taken to further the cause…”

 

“ _ I’ve _ lived a life of extravagance? I’m sorry but who lives in a palace and has an army of Warlocks at his beck and call?” Clary asked, cutting Lorenzo off as anger flooded her. “Why can somebody else not do whatever it is you want?” she asked furiously.

 

“It is a large house, not a palace! And it has to be you because you are the one who has the expertise that I require for a personal matter,” Lorenzo said, narrowing his eyes at Clary and shaking his head at Lucian when a growl rumbled through the other Alpha, a few green sparks of magic flickering over Lucian’s hand. Silently telling himself that Lucian didn’t make him nervous, he turned to Clary once more. 

 

“Your knowledge far surpasses that of any of the other Warlocks that I have at my disposal, for what I need. And you are more than capable of tasks that I will set you,” Lorenzo said.

 

“What knowledge? I don’t know anything,” Clary spluttered, staring at Lorenzo. Not that she would wish for her brothers to go anywhere, but Simon was an expert at healing and Magnus’ potions were a work of art. Both of them had committed their lives to furthering the stock of knowledge that Warlocks had been building and storing away for centuries. Surely Magnus or Simon would be more useful than her. She was defective.

 

The only thing that had inspired Clary over her life had been capturing the beauty of any given moment. Sure, it wasn’t advancing the Warlock race, or even contributing anything to it but her art made her happy, gave her something to concentrate on when bouts of depression struck or when the dreams had her waking in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. 

 

The dreams and loneliness, and resulting depression, always seemed to affect Clary more than the others, something that she was deeply ashamed of, no matter how much they reassured her that it wasn’t her fault. 

 

“Of course you do. For a start, your magic is powerful and you have exceptional social and organisational skills,” Lorenzo said, giving credit where it was due. The narrowing of Clary’s gaze puzzled him, he had spoken the truth, she had been more than valuable in previous lives. If she could think past her own selfish issues, Clary could be useful again and this would give her something to do. Everyone else was flourishing while she was falling into a slump. He was helping her.

 

Clary stared at Lorenzo, unable to comprehend what he was waffling on about. For a start, she barely ever left the manor’s grounds unless he forced her out on a mission. Secondly, Lorenzo had never given her anything close to praise before. That wasn’t what had her angry gaze fixed on him though, she was waiting for his real reason.

 

“Your duties will include liaising with various important Warlocks on matters pertaining to the Shadowhunters, and the occasional mundane when I have need of them, retrieving certain… packages for me whenever I am unable to retrieve them myself and you will be helping with a personal project,” Lorenzo said, unable to understand what the big fuss was about.

 

“And what would this personal project be, Rey?” Luke asked, reaching for Clary’s shoulder when she jumped up and started pacing. The expression on her face was familiar, it usually precluded an outburst of some sort. He wasn’t fooled for a moment that Lorenzo didn’t have some ulterior motive for taking Clary away for them. Knowing Lorenzo, it was probably for something monumentally selfish.

 

“With the changing style of the period, I have decided to redecorate my home. Your expertise, Clary, will be vital in curating my collection of art and antiquities, and the acquisition of more from the latest and greatest artists of the modern era…” An angry snarl cut Lorenzo off before he could finish.

 

“Are you fucking serious? You want to rip me away from my family to redecorate your palace?” Clary snarled, turning to Luke when he jumped to his feet too. The expression on her father’s face promised blood.

 

“You really are a selfish bastard, Rey. How can you justify taking her away from her family to decorate your house? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Luke growled, using every bit of his limited self-restraint not to just launch himself across the desk and smash Lorenzo’s head against the wall.

 

“I am the High Warlock! You will not speak to me like that, either of you,” Lorenzo said, also jumping to his feet, needing to put himself on an even footing with the pair before turning to Clary once more. “And I already told you, you have gotten far too comfortable here. It is time you stopped wallowing in your misery and did some work, willful child!” he said, raising an eyebrow at her petulant, angry expression.

 

Clary tried her best to fight the angry tears that sprang up in her eyes, desperately not wanting to cry in front of Lorenzo. Yes, she had spent a lot of time “wallowing in her misery” as the High Warlock had put it, but it wasn’t her fault. The bouts of depression had been getting worse, and Simon and Magnus, and to some extent, Luke, were the only ones who were getting her through it. Some days she barely made it out of bed. She couldn’t lose them. And certainly not to be Lorenzo’s decorator.

 

“I need an assistant, you are the one with the necessary skills so stop acting like a spoilt brat and do as you are told. There is no need to make such a big deal out of this. Pack your things and say your goodbyes,” Lorenzo said with a shake of his head and roll of his eyes. 

 

_ It's not like I’m locking her up, she can come back and visit _ . Turning to explain that to her, Lorenzo flinched back when magic coalesced in Clary’s hand.

 

Panick consumed Clary, constricting her chest far more effectively than her corsets ever had. She couldn’t lose her family, she couldn’t. They were everything to her, all she had. Without them, she was nothing. They made her life worth living. Unable to do anything else, and desperately needing to get herself together, she opened a portal before she ended up lashing out at Lorenzo.

 

_ I need them, I need my family,  _ Clary thought desperately as she dashed through her portal, not even having a destination in mind but stumbling out into a grassy field, filled with trees. The panic was getting worse. Tears streamed down her face and every hair on her body stood on end. Unable to hold her glamour in place, she realised what was happening when she felt like she was crawling out of her skin.

 

“Not now, please,” Clary begged anyone who would listen as she paced in a circle, gasping for breath and scratching at the nape of her neck. Simon called them panic attacks, times when the depression grew so strong that she would be consumed by it. So consumed, that she didn’t notice the pair of eyes watching her from the trees above.

 

Claire watched the Warlock pace around in circles below her, eyes wide from the unexpected portal that had opened, a red-haired woman stumbling from it, her red eyes glowing. 

 

Biting her lip, Claire didn’t know what to do. Most of her family was in the trees with her, her mission was to try and sneak past them without their noticing her passing. But she didn’t know exactly where her father and the others were. Mother was on the ground but she was too far away, she wouldn’t get there before the Warlock escaped.

 

_ This is my chance, if I capture the Warlock, they will see that I’m ready for my own missions! And dad will be pleased if I capture her.  _ Gripping her seraph blade tightly, ignoring the fact that it was a wooden practice sword and not a real one, Claire warred with herself about what to do.

 

The Warlock’s pacing grew faster and her muttering louder, now was Claire’s chance, she could always whack the Warlock around the head with the seraph blade that she clutched.  _ It will icapas’tate the Warlock, giving dad a chance to catch up _ . Squaring her shoulders, she stepped from the branch, the way her dad had done before.  

 

A shriek escaped Clary when a weight dropped onto her from the trees above, wrapping around her neck and chest, almost driving her to her knees. The sudden attack should have had her magic flaring out from her in defence but the scent that filled her nose froze her, sinking into her soul.

 

Instead of attacking, Clary wrapped her arms around the small body that clung to her and inhaled deeply, her eyes screwed shut. The faint scent of lotus flower calmed her like nothing else ever had, sinking into her panic and pushing it aside.

 

Claire raised the wooden seraph blade to strike at the Warlock who was trying to crush her to death, ready to do her duty as a Shadowhunter, even if it was the last thing she did. The Warlock was strong! The sword fell from her hand and the war-cry died on her lips when she inhaled the woman’s scent. 

 

“Why do you smell like my dad, Warlock?” Claire asked breathlessly, hands batting at the Warlock’s hat to try and get her attention. The woman was seriously squashing her! The Warlock’s scent was exactly the same as her dad’s. Well, not exactly the same, there was something... softer about it, not what she had been expecting at all. It made her falter, tears welling up when she realised that she had failed in her duty to strike the Warlock down.

 

“Who is your dad… little Shadowhunter?” Clary asked when she opened her eyes to see that she was holding a Shadowhunter child in her arms, small runes visible on the girl’s neck, wondering if the scent that lingered on the child belonged to the girl’s father. It called to the most basic part of her, almost filling up the giant hole that she had lived with for her entire life. This girl was important. 

 

“Hey, there’s no need to cry, I won’t harm you,” Clary said when she saw the little girl’s chin wobbling. “Despite what Shadowhunters think, not all Warlocks are monsters, we don’t attack innocents,” she said, looking the child in the eye. It was odd, she had never seen a Shadowhunter child before, never even really thought about them being children.

 

“You can’t hurt me, I’m a Shadowhunter!” Claire declared fiercely. Before she deflated, her tears spilling over. Burying her face in the Warlock’s neck, she inhaled her dad’s soothing scent, confusion spilling through her and out of her mouth.

 

“I failed and now I won’t be allowed to be a Shadowhunter anymore. They will be dis’pointed in me and I’ll have to go and live with the mundanes because I couldn’t catch the Warlock,” Claire sobbed, unable to help herself. She was supposed to be capturing the Warlock, not crying into her soft red curls. They felt nice against her skin.

 

“You did capture me, see?” Clary said, tugging the girl’s head out from her neck and gesturing to the way the girl was wrapped around her. “And if they kicked you out for that, then they are rotten and mean. I’m sure you are a fearsome Shadowhunter and it would be their loss,” she said, wiping the tears from the cheeks of, of all things, a Shadowhunter. 

 

A voice, coming from behind Clary, had her spinning on the spot, clutching the girl tighter when the cold metal of a blade pressed against the side of her neck, sending her heart thundering in her chest. Looking into the dark brown eyes of a female Shadowhunter, her attention was caught by the two seraph blades that the woman wielded.

 

“Put her down and I will make your death swift. Try to take her and I will inflict an unending stream of agony upon you that will leave you begging for death,” Maryse said, one seraph blade hovering an inch from the Warlock’s stomach, underneath Claire’s body where it was wrapped around her, the other pressed to the Warlock’s neck.

 

The sound of a shriek had sent Maryse running, yanking seraph blades from her weapons belt on the fly, no doubt capturing the attention of the others too. Seeing Claire in the Warlock’s clutches had almost given her a heart attack, she would be damned if the Warlock thought that she could take one of her children. Jace would decimate the Warlock for trying.

 

Clary was about to lower the child when two thuds announced the arrival of more Shadowhunters. Rethinking giving up her only bargaining chip, she stared down the new blade that was aimed at her, her eyes flicking up to see a man with dark hair and hazel eyes on the other end of it, staring at her in confusion. The female Shadowhunter who had landed next to him, whip shining in the weak afternoon sunlight, looked just as confused.

 

“I… I wasn’t trying to take… do I know you?” Clary asked the male Shadowhunter, looking around, she was surrounded. She had never been so confused in her life, positive that she had never set eyes on the two new Shadowhunters before. The familiarity that swept through her, however, left her feeling dizzy.

 

“No,” Izzy said when Alec just stared at the Warlock, even if the word tasted wrong on her tongue. The image of the Warlock, laughing with the light of a fire playing over her face, had her blinking. Trying to shake the image away, she tightened her grip on the handle of her whip.

 

“Hand Claire over and stop with the tricks, Warlock,” Alec said, trying to shake away the image of the Warlock, dancing with his brother. It was a lie, it had to be. Jace would never dance with a Warlock. And Jace would never wear a long curly blonde wig. A rustle, in the trees above them, had him looking up to see Jace flying towards them over the branches. “Warlock,” he yelled.

 

“I suggest if you want to live, you will put my daughter down,” Jace snarled, his heart thundering at the word “Warlock” as he sprinted over the last branch, having run flat out through the trees. Cursing himself for letting Claire get so far ahead, he dropped from the trees to land in front of the Warlock, glaring at her.

 

A choking noise erupted from Jace when the Warlock met his gaze, his seraph blade falling limply to his side. The bright red eyes were stunning. Not as stunning as the woman’s scent. It snaked through him, setting fire to his veins, every part of him shuddering as the scent of lotus flower worked its way through him.

 

Clary could barely think when she met the Shadowhunter’s blue and brown gaze, her stomach dropping through the floor and her heart beating a thundering tattoo in her chest. Without even thinking of the action, almost forgetting the child that she still clutched to her, she reached up to cup the Shadowhunter’s jaw, her thumb sweeping across his cheek. 

 

“Daddy, who is she?” Claire asked, watching her dad’s eyes flick over the Warlock’s face. She had never seen him lost for words before, her dad always had something to say but he was just standing there, gaping like a fish.

 

“Clary,” Jace breathed, the name coming out as a whisper when it appeared in his head, as though it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. 

 

“Clary? That’s the name you say when you have the dreams. You always talk to Clary in your sleep,” Claire said, eyeing the Warlock with new interest. It was always the name her dad muttered whenever she slept in his room, usually asking Clary to stay with him or forgive him, right before he woke up.

 

“Alec, Izzy, Mother, lower your weapons, now,” Jace snarled when he realised that they had surrounded Clary, his eyes flicking to his brother, seeing Alec’s confusion, to his sister, Izzy staring at him with something like betrayal in her eyes, to his mother.

 

“Maryse, stop!” Jace yelled, his eyes widening when they found Maryse, standing behind Clary, raising a Seraph blade. 

 

Jace hadn’t even seen Maryse circling them, all he had seen since he had dropped from the trees, was his mate, holding his daughter. The image had been so right that he couldn’t look away. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around his mate and daughter, spinning them around to take the blade that was aimed at Clary. What else could he do?

 

Alec and Izzy dashed forward, both of them crying out as they watched the blade slice through the air, aiming straight for their brother’s neck. 

 

Clary raised a shield around the three of them, the action automatic, nobody was going to harm her mate. That’s what Jace was, her mate. As wrong as the feeling had felt whenever she had thought of taking a mate was how right the word felt now, down to the depths of her soul. Pushing the fact aside, that he had a daughter, and all of the pain that went along with it, her first instinct was to protect them both. 

 

Alec was rocked with a serious case of deja vu, for the second time that day, as he flew through the air. The image of another time when the Warlock had set a shield around his brother when another blade had come for him floated through his head. Landing hard on his shoulders, sent flying from the blast of Adamas meeting magic, a scream ripped its way up his throat. The pain almost had him blacking out.

 

Jace looked up, his hands automatically patting his mate and daughter down to check them for injuries as his eyes found his siblings and mother, all of them lying ten feet out. The need to make sure that Clary and Claire were okay warred with the need to go and check up on them. 

 

“Are you all okay? Is anybody hurt?” Jace yelled to his family, unable to rip himself away from his mate and child. A wave of relief rippled through him when Alec and Izzy lurched to their feet and stumbled towards their mother, Maryse sitting up and shaking the after-effects of the blast, off, even if all three of them looked like they were in pain.

 

“What is wrong with you? Why are you protecting a Warlock? I could have killed you!” Maryse screamed, staring at Jace where he was wrapped around the Warlock and Claire. “Jace? Claire? What is…?” she spluttered to a stop, staring at the trio, all three of them glowing. Looking around, down at her own hands, she realised that they all were.

 

“Daddy? What is… what’s happening?” Claire asked, clutching her head. Images had started to flick through her head when she saw her dad glowing brightly. “Make it stop, Daddy, please?” she begged, watching a beautiful man with black hair and light brown eyes, and a woman who looked exactly like her, declaring their love for one another in hushed whispers.  _ But I’m only little,  _ she thought, knowing that she was the woman. 

 

“Claire… Claire?” Jace yelled, pulling his daughter from his mate into his arms, holding her shaking body close to him. The bright glow that surrounded her set his teeth on edge, Claire’s cries sawing at his gut. Claire might have been dropped into his life unexpectedly but she was still his baby, he had raised her, seen her through all of her milestones, held her to him as she had sobbed and laughed and grown.

 

Izzy dashed forward, dragging Alec and Maryse with her, the Warlock, forgotten. The sound of her brother’s pain, of Claire’s pain, compelled her forward, the glow of all of them going unnoticed in her haste to get to them.

 

“Izzy, help her please?” Jace begged, unable to comprehend why he would ask his sister such a question, he just did. It was all too much, his daughter crying, finding his mate, the images that kept flashing behind his eyes. The only thing that grounded him was his mate, taking his hand with one of hers, Clary’s other hand resting on Claire’s chest.

 

Clary didn’t know what else to do. Sending her magic into the little girl, she tried to soothe her, watching as the sweet girl continued to twitch in Jace’s arms. She didn’t know how the child had come to be but the pain in Jace’s eyes was too much for her to bear.

 

Izzy took Claire’s face in her hands when she reached Clary, Jace and Claire, too focussed on pressing her lips to Claire’s forehead to realise that she knew who Clary was. Sending all of her love and empathy into the child, she let her tears flow when Claire went limp in Jace’s arms.

 

The peace that flooded Claire from her aunt’s kiss cleared her head. Other images came faster, laughing with the man, being chased by him through the air, crying, falling. Wings. “Oberon!” Claire screamed, the name of her mate. Before the cold light consumed her. 

 

Jace collapsed into Clary’s arms when Claire’s body disappeared from his arms, sinking into her, images of him and his daughter, of him and his mate, swirling through his head in an agonised, confused mess. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her scent as they collapsed in a heap, unable to understand what had happened to his daughter. Even as his own inevitable fate drew closer with each image.

 

“Mother?” Alec asked, reaching out when he saw Maryse shaking, glowing as brightly as he realised the rest of them were. Fighting the images that were flashing through his head, he caught Maryse when she stumbled forward, his stomach lurching when one image stood out above the rest. “Magnus?” he yelled, gripping Maryse around the waist, trying to hold them both up.

 

Clary’s head shot up when Alec shouted for Magnus, when Izzy collapsed next to her and Jace, whispering Simon’s name, over and over again. When the woman that they called mother screamed the word “Lucian”. Waving her hand and snapping her fingers, she created a portal to open up into the library of the manor.

 

“Izzy, take them both and go, he’s there, waiting for you to find him,” Clary said, shoving Izzy in the direction of the portal. Meeting Izzy’s glowing, uncertain gaze, she nodded in Alec and the other female Shadowhunter’s direction. “go, now, all of you,” she yelled. There was only one person she knew with the name Lucian. Clutching Jace to her, fighting the images that swam behind her eyes, she watched as Izzy dragged Alec and the woman through the portal.

 

“Claire was just like us, Maryse too,” Jace said, meeting Clary’s gaze when she tugged his head up, the images of their lives flowing in the back of his head. “When Claire was entrusted into my care, I didn’t have a clue how to look after a child. But I swore to protect her with my life. How was I supposed to save her from this?” he asked.

 

“I’m so sorry, love. You couldn’t. We can’t even save ourselves,” Clary said, realising that the girl wasn’t Jace’s biological daughter. Pressing her lips to Jace’s, she let her own tears fall, mingling with his on their cheeks. The heat inside of her was building, burning almost as hot as the kiss as she watched the two of them soaring through the clouds together. 

 

“But Cat will save us, she’ll save us all, I swear,” Clary said when she pulled back, clinging to the belief that she had in her best friend’s daughter. Her eyes slammed closed when Jace’s lips brushed hers once more, unable to watch him leave her again.

 

“I love you, Clary, wait for me,” Jace whispered against Clary’s lips, watching them on the floor of a cave, her head thrown back with pleasure, his wings wrapped around her as they moved together. Before the cold light consumed him.

 

The fire ripped through Clary, her breath exploding out of her in a choked sob when she slammed into the floor of Asmodeus’ throne room. 

 

Raising her head, Clary looked up to find Asmodeus watching her, surprise in his eyes. Wanting more than anything to lash out at him, she locked her magic down with her grief, fighting the instinct to hurt the greater demon when his gaze narrowed on her. She had learned her lesson last time.

 

“Where is Magnus?” Asmodeus asked, rising from his throne when Clary appeared in the middle of his floor. There was no sign of his son.

 

“Careful, Asmodeus, anyone would think that you actually care about him,” Clary said, fighting the snarl that she wanted to answer him with. 

 

Two thuds ripped her attention away from Asmodeus. Rushing forward, she wrapped her arm around Simon and reached out to grip Magnus’ shoulder. “Did you see them?” she asked her friends, praying that she had opened her portal in time.

 

“Yes, we saw them,” Magnus whispered, unable to produce anything louder. Gripping Clary’s hand when it cupped his jaw, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. The tapping of a cane caught his attention. “Are you going to kick us out of the realm straight away or can we spend some time with our families?” he asked when he looked up at his father.

 

“I am your family,” Asmodeus said, raising an eyebrow at his son, watching as the three of them climbed to their feet.

 

“I meant the people who love us,” Magnus said, his eyes glowing brightly as he fought the urge to hurt Asmodeus. As much as he would love to strike his father down, the need to see Cat was more important to him.

 

“ _ I  _ love you, Magnus. I am your father,” Asmodeus said incredulously, reaching out to place his hand on Magnus’ arm. A growl built in his throat when Simon snorted.

 

“You have a funny way of showing it. You don’t get to call yourself my father, not anymore. You don’t know what it is to be a father,” Magnus said, jerking back from Asmodeus’ touch and leaning into Clary when her arm tightened around him. 

 

“You are supposed to love your children unconditionally. It wouldn’t matter to me who Cat brought home with her, I would love her if she was mated to a shax demon. I wouldn’t have to explain that to you if you were any kind of real father,” Magnus said, looking up into Asmodeus’ eyes, refusing to back down from the anger he saw there. 

 

“Like your father loved you, unconditionally?” Asmodeus asked spitefully when Clary looked at him with condemnation in her eyes. Who was she to judge him? “You forget that this was the house that you used to run to when he couldn’t accept what you are. I haven’t forgotten how your sobs would ring through these hallways,” he said. She had spent much of her childhood with Magnus, crying over how unfair it was that her father didn’t love her.

 

“The difference between you and Valentine is that he is trying now. He realised what he had lost when we were banished, you still throw your son away, time and time again because of your prejudice,” Clary said. Valentine had never been the father of the year but he tried to make up for it whenever she got to see him.

 

“You could break this curse and try to make amends for what you’ve done but you choose not to. Why are you so surprised when Magnus wants nothing to do with you?” Simon asked, baffled by Asmodeus’ words and actions, two completely contradictory things.

 

“I’ve told you, there is no breaking this curse,” Asmodeus said, ignoring Simon and Clary to look at his son. 

 

“Then we have nothing more to talk about. Where is my daughter?” Magnus asked, shaking his head at Asmodeus when his father once again reached out for him. 

 

“She is at Elaine’s house,” Asmodeus said, taking a step back when he realised that Magnus meant it. Watching Simon create a portal, he found that he felt rather empty when Magnus turned away from him and followed his friends through it.

 

Simon walked straight into his mother’s house when his portal led them to her front door, clutching Clary’s hand tightly, clary pulling Magnus after her. He almost let go of Clary’s hand and covered his ears when Elaine shrieked.

 

Magnus looked around when Simon’s mother launched herself across the living room and into Simon’s arms. Cat, Becky and a man and woman who he didn’t recognise but took to be Becky’s son and mate were all sitting staring at them. Holding his own arms out, he pulled a smile on for Cat when she swiftly followed Elaine.

 

“I’ve missed you, little one,” Magnus whispered in Cat’s ear, holding her tightly to him, inhaling her scent. The last few hours melted away when she clung to him, just as hard and whispered, “me too” in his ear. Pulling Cat into his side after she let go and greeted Clary, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, keeping her there while Becky and her mate, Arterra, made their way over. 

 

Clary wasted no time in sending her parents a fire message once she had hugged Cat, asking them to come over to Elaine’s house, she wanted to see them badly after what had happened. The events of her reset played on her mind as she waited for them, confusion and sorrow being the main emotions that swept through her.

 

Simon hugged his sister and her mate, unable to help the laugh that escaped when the young man that followed them looked at them like they had lost their minds. “Deacon? You were a lot smaller the last time I saw you. I’m your uncle Simon,” he said, introducing himself. The guy looked to be of a similar age to him and his sister, around his early twenties, black eyes and hair, dark skin, quite handsome. He saw a little of himself in the boy.

 

“Nice to meet you, finally,” Deacon said, a little shyly, thinking that it was nice to put a face to the name that he had heard mentioned so many times. His mother had shown him plenty of memory pictures but it was different seeing his uncle in the flesh. The bear hug wasn’t totally unexpected from the descriptions that he had of Simon.

 

“Call me Terra,” Arterra said when she was introduced to Clary and Magnus, shaking their hands when Becky let go of their necks. “That’s our boy over there being squeezed to death by Simon,” she chuckled, looking around at the madness of everyone hugging and crying, mainly Simon and Elaine.

 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Catarina said that Rebecca had found her mate. I’m so happy for you both,” Magnus said when he took Terra’s hand, smiling at the way Becky was practically stuck to her side. It was understandable, with Terra’s ebony skin, long, black hair and dark eyes, a curvaceous body and infectious smile, she was a beautiful woman. Giving Becky a wink when Cat took his hand, he grinned when she gave him a look that said, ‘I know, right?”

 

“I’ve missed you, all of you. You can’t stay away so long next time, sixty-one years is far too long!” Cat said, hugging Simon when he pulled Deacon over to introduce them all. 

 

Magnus exchanged a look with Clary and Simon as he took his turn shaking hands with Simon’s nephew, wondering if Asmodeus had even told anyone about their last visit. Shaking his head when Simon opened his mouth, he squeezed Cat’s hand. Their families didn’t need to know that they had missed out on a visit because of Asmodeus’ selfishness. It would only hurt them.

 

Clary turned when the door opened to find her parents dashing into the house. Profound relief swept through her when her mother’s arms came around her, swiftly followed by tears when her father joined the hug. A lot had happened and seeing them after so long was exactly what she needed. No matter how old she got, there would probably always be times when she would need them.

 

“Dad, come and meet Deacon,” Cat said, tightening her grip on dad’s hand once more. “Deacon, this is my dad,” she said, tugging at Magnus’ hand and grabbing Deacon on the way past. Towing them over to the largest sofa, she turned to her dad, opening her mouth before the expression on his face stopped her.

 

“Are you two… are you mates?” Magnus asked, eyeing the millimetre gap between his daughter and Simon’s nephew. They had been talking to each other, heads together when he had walked into the house. Every reset brought a small amount of dread with it. As much as he wanted his daughter to live her life, he dreaded the day he would return to her to find that she already had a mate and a few children that he had missed out on. 

 

“Us? No!” Cat spluttered, staring at her dad, Deacon choking just as hard next to her. “I’m old enough to be his mother,” she said incredulously.

 

“Alec is old enough to be my father. What does age matter to immortals?” Magnus asked with a shrug, hating himself for being relieved that Cat wasn’t mated. 

 

If Magnus was completely honest with himself, he didn’t want to miss his daughter bringing her mate home to meet him and Alec, teasing her with embarrassing childhood stories, ensuring that the person was good enough for her. Now he would have none of that. But the two were obviously close, he had thought it a fair assumption.

 

“No, we aren’t mated, just very close. Cat wasn’t the only person to lose someone close to her,” Deacon said when he recovered, glancing at his mother and grandmother, both of them sandwiching his uncle Simon between them. “So I’ve been helping her,” he said with a small smile, looking back at Magnus.

 

“With what?” Magnus asked, watching Deacon. The younger demon seemed to be a man of few words, rather like his Alexander. Quiet and unassuming. He liked Deacon already.

 

“Asmodeus has been keeping a close eye on me. I can’t do anything without him knowing about it, or putting a stop to it. And he refuses to teach me how to portal to other realms. He says it is because he wants to keep me close,” Cat said, rolling her eyes, the same as Magnus. 

 

Cat knew for a fact that the only reason Asmodeus refused to teach her how to portal to other realms was to stop her from running away. Once she learned how to navigate portal travel between the realms of hell, it would only be a matter of time before she could learn how to get to the mortal realm. Apparently, the two were vastly different.

 

“Me, however, he ignores,” Deacon said with a grin. “My mothers and I live on our estate most of the time so I’m free to come and go as I please. I’ve been learning how to portal to other demon realms and I’m about to leave for the first one, Abbadon, to search the libraries there for answers.”

 

Magnus just stared at the two of them, a lump forming in his throat. Not only had his daughter not given up on them, but Deacon was helping too. Reaching out, he took one of their hands each in his own, squeezing his thanks. It seemed woefully inadequate to repay them for what they were doing.

 

“Just promise me that you will stay safe, Abbadon is a dangerous realm. Watch your back the whole time you are there, you can’t let your guard down for a moment,” Magnus said seriously, looking Deacon in the eye. 

 

“You’ve been there before?” Cat asked, surprise colouring her tone. For some reason, she had never really thought much about what her father’s life had been like before she and Alec had come along. Sure, he had told her stories but she had never really thought about him travelling to other realms.

 

“Yes, centuries ago. It is custom for the rulers of the realms to take their heirs on a tour of the realms,” Magnus said, rolling his eyes, hard. “It is supposed to be akin to a state visit, the leaders availing themselves of each other's hospitality but it is an obvious display of power used to show off one’s assets. And a chance to scope out how powerful a rival is. I had my turn of being dangled in front of the enemy, Asmodeus’ way of warning others off of what was his.”

 

“I’ll be careful when I visit Abbadon, I promise,” Deacon said solemnly, taking the advice on board.

 

“Be careful in all of the realms, please. I don’t know Terra but Becky and Elaine will string me up if anything happens to you on my behalf,” Magnus said, eyeing Terra up. She seemed nice enough but there was an edge to her that made him think that she could handle herself, constantly alert, even as she smiled and joked. “Demons are very mistrustful of demons from other realms, that’s why so few of us travel between realms, aside from it being notoriously difficult. I’m assuming it took you a while to find someone to teach you?” he asked.

 

“You have no idea,” Deacon said, shaking his head ruefully. Trying to find someone who knew how to portal between realms who would go against Asmodeus, without the greater demon finding out about it had taken almost a decade and learning had taken him months. Cat had said he was worse at it than his uncle Simon. Which apparently, was awful.

 

“You don’t have to worry though,” Deacon said with a self-deprecating smile. “I know how to take care of myself. I have one mother who is an excellent healer and one who is quite the warrior. Neither of them would have let me go if I couldn’t defend myself and patch myself up,” he chuckled.

 

Clary caught everyone’s attention with a shrill whistle, waiting for all of the conversations to die down. As much as she was enjoying seeing everyone back together, she had some information to share and wasn’t sure how long Asmodeus’ benevolence would last.

 

“Cat, there are a couple of things you need to know that might help with your search,” Clary said, smiling when Cat perked up and everyone sat on the couches and chairs that Elaine conjured for them.

 

“Our reset was different this time, others were involved. We weren’t together when it happened. I met Jace and I’m hoping that Magnus and Simon managed to get some time with their mates?” Clary asked, hoping that they had managed. Thinking back over the last… however long her current life had been, she was pretty sure that her depression had been due to not getting to see Jace the last time that they had reset.

 

“We did,” Simon said, still a little confused about how that had actually happened, and what he had witnessed before the fire had taken him. “Magnus and I came to find you when we heard yelling. We ran to the library to find Luke pinning Lorenzo to the wall with magic,” he said with a grin. The expression that Lorenzo had worn, one of fear, would forever be etched into his brain.

 

“Luke told us what happened. I almost put my foot up Lorenzo’s ass, the selfish bastard,” Simon growled with a shake of his head. “We managed to talk Luke out of killing him, although, now that things are clearer, maybe we should have let him finish the snivelling weasel off,” he said, wondering what would happen to them if Lorenzo wasn’t the High Warlock.

 

“Who is Luke?” Cat asked curiously, her eyes flicking from Simon to Magnus. She wasn’t the only one, everyone watching Simon.

 

“The Warlock who raised us, Lucian. He was a kind man, just as lost and lonely as the rest of us. But he was good to us, he raised us like we were his own. He showed me what it was like to have a real father,” Magnus said, his stomach clenching a little. 

 

“Lucian was a demon from my realm, he is old, one of the first demons to be born after the angels fell and created the realms,” Elaine said, surprised that he was still alive. “The story of the first ascending demon was a legend in my home realm for those of my generation. Apparently, the demon, Lucian, had just disappeared one day. That was before I was even born.”

 

Clary, Simon and Magnus all stared at each other, surprised. Sure, Luke looked a little bit older than them but they hadn’t realised just how old he was. Or how bad it could get. None of them had wanted to think about how long their punishment could last but Luke must have been stuck in the mortal realm for  _ centuries. _

 

“Luke let Lorenzo go when the three of us started glowing. Lorenzo disappeared back through a portal the minute Luke let him go, raving about ungrateful brats and how you had set us all off,” Magnus said to Clary, seeing how bad she felt for Luke too. “The last thing that we heard Lorenzo say was that he should leave us to fend for ourselves when we got back.” 

 

“None of us knew what was happening at first, why we were all glowing. It started to dawn on us when the memories started. We were about to come looking for you, trying to think of where you could have portalled to until a portal opened up right there in the library,” Magnus said, waving Cat off when she opened her mouth to start questioning him.

 

“Our mates came stumbling through it,” Magnus said, exchanging a look with Simon. “Alec and Izzy both came through it and brought a woman with them, she was screaming for Luke, glowing just as brightly as we were. I don't know who she was but she collapsed into Luke’s arms. They got a minute before they disappeared. We were lucky, we got a little bit longer.”

 

Magnus had clung to Alec when he had appeared, barely saying a word to each other, just holding each other. Izzy and Simon too. Before the fire had consumed them all.

 

“By the sounds of it, they've been going through this longer than we have,” Simon said, recalling the way the woman had sobbed in Luke’s arms, how Luke had screamed, “Not again” it had sounded like he had said that a lot! 

 

“She was their mother. Or at least, that's what they kept calling her. All of them. I liked Luke, he was like a father to the three of us but none of us ever called him that,” Clary said, pondering the way their mates had truly cared for the woman. She, Magnus and Simon had always called Luke by his name, even if they had thought of him as their dad.

 

“You said this man, Luke disappeared like the rest of you do?” Jocelyn asked Magnus and Simon, eyebrows rising when they both nodded.  “And the Woman too? Who was she?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

 

“Jace called her Maryse. She was very… defensive of them,” Clary said, remembering quite clearly the swords that had been aimed at her neck and stomach when she had kept hold of Claire.

 

“She would be,” Valentine said, shrugging when everyone's heads snapped in his direction. Seeing his mate’s nod of agreement, he elaborated. “Maryse was the original angel, made and fallen before the rest of us were even created. A cautionary tale.”

 

“I thought you were all the original angels?” Magnus asked, his confusion clear. Alec had once told him that Valentine and Jocelyn, along with all Alec, Izzy and Jace, and half of The Host had been original angels, all of them created at the same time.

 

“All of the angels who had been created, instead of being born to mated pairs, were the original angels. But Maryse was the first, older than all of us. The Angels were created to protect life, to help the heavenly realms and the mortal realm flourish, to balance out the universe. All of us made for specific jobs.

 

“I was the Harbinger, my mate the Keeper of Hidden Truths, Alexander was the Avenging angel, and so on. Maryse, however, was the first, she was the Mother, created to be the Mother of Angels,” Valentine said with a sad smile. “And she was the first to face the descent. Mother was the first one to find a demon as a mate, the first to fall.”

 

“Maryse wasn’t the only one who was there. She wasn’t the only one to reset,” Clary said, explaining everything that had happened from the moment Luke had stopped her before her ride, right up until she fell onto the throne room.

 

“Are you all linked?” Elaine asked, seeing the same question on several faces. She found it unsettling that a child would reset. Just the thought of what it must have been like for someone so young to have the memories of a fully grown woman made her shudder. The child must have been terrified. Not to mention what the girl must have seen.

 

“No, there are warlocks of all ages. We would all be babies at the same time if we were all linked. In each lifetime, we have been raised by various Warlocks, the Shadowhunters too, it seems. Jace said Claire was handed to him to raise. She called him dad,” Clary said, still as confused as she had been in the mortal realm.

 

“Maybe she reset because she was so young?” Terra suggested, shrugging when everyone turned to her. “If she was only… five? Six? It can’t have been long since she last reset. Maybe that is a factor. Or maybe she was too young to handle the memories. What was happening when she reset?” she asked.

 

“Jace and I had just realised who the other was. The glow had already started,” Clary said, trying to put the events into the right timeline.

 

“The glow?” Cat asked, her eyes flicking from Clary to Magnus, along with everyone else. This was something new.

 

“It happens when we reset. We start glowing. It feels like our whole bodies heat up, like a fire inside of us that consumes us. I think it is different for our mate’s though, they, well, Alexander, always feels cold to the touch. It is soothing when the heat becomes too much,” Magnus said, looking to Clary and Simon for confirmation.

 

“Izzy too. Maybe that’s what triggered Claire’s curse, the glow. Not being able to comprehend it, or what the images mean,” Simon wondered out loud, picking at his lip as he reasoned it out.

 

“Am I a bad person for being upset when I thought Jace had a daughter?” Clary asked her mother quietly, searching Jocelyn’s face for judgement and taking her mother’s hand when she shook her head. “I was devastated. He was so good with her, truly loved her and instead of being happy for him, I was devastated that it wasn’t our daughter. The thought of him taking someone else to his bed almost broke me,” she whispered.

 

“No, it doesn’t make you a bad person, it is understandable. Any of us would feel the same,” Jocelyn said, just as quiet as Clary. Pulling her daughter to her, she ran her fingers over Clary’s hair. “Have you… in any of your lives, ever taken anyone else to your bed?” she asked, ready to have the talk again if Clary needed it.

 

“No, never. The thought of taking a mate is always something that all of us find repulsive,” Clary said, thankful that everyone else had started their own conversations up. She loved them all but her sex life wasn’t something that she wanted to share with all of them.

 

“Jace and the others probably feel the same way,” Jocelyn said, smiling for her daughter when Clary pulled back, hope etched into every line of her face.

 

Clary clung to it, to the hope that Jace also found the idea of sleeping with someone else, as grim as she did. It flashed across her mind that she hadn’t gotten any in a really, really long time. It was a sacrifice that was worth it though, it wouldn’t mean anything to her if it wasn’t with Jace. Even if she could bring herself to sleep with someone.

 

“... and your uncle Simon had to wear the rouge for the rest of the day. Catarina wouldn’t let him take it off,” Magnus told Deacon, much to Simon’s chagrin and Becky’s delight. “You looked so pretty, Simon,” he grinned. If he couldn’t tell Cat’s mate embarrassing stories about her, he could settle for telling Deacon about Simon’s finer moments.

 

“You couldn’t tell him about my fine warrior skills and battle prowess?” Simon asked, elbowing Magnus in the ribs when everyone laughed. “It is not that funny, I’m excellent with a sword!” he growled, only making them laugh harder.

 

“Simon almost sliced his own wing off once,” Magnus said, raising his eyebrow at Simon’s claims of excellent swordsmanship skills. “More than once, actually…” he trailed off when he felt a lurch in his stomach, his head snapping around when Clary and Simon both gasped.

 

“I will see you soon, little one,” Magnus whispered, pulling Cat into a hug, knowing that the lurch was the only warning he would get. “I love you,” he murmured, his lips pressed to her forehead.

 

“I love you too, dad. Say hello to father, next time you see him,” Cat said quietly, resigning herself to another departure. The fade of her father’s touch had her eyes springing open, biting into her lip when she saw that he, and the others, were gone.

 

A sombre mood filled the gap that had sprung up in the wake of their loved one's disappearance, a silence that seemed to stretch out between them all for how sudden it had been.

 

Reaching for Elaine’s hand when the demon stumbled to her feet and headed towards the kitchen, Cat couldn’t blame Elaine when she muttered something about making them all some food. The tears that had gathered in the corners of Elaine’s eyes stopped her from following. As caring as Elaine was, sometimes her grief got the best of her. Cat knew when to leave well enough alone.

 

“Now I see why you never gave up,” Deacon said quietly to Cat, sliding his hand into his mother’s tight grip when Becky blinked her own tears back. Hearing about his uncle Simon just disappearing was one thing, watching it happen, suddenly, with no warning, was another entirely. He even felt bad for Valentine when he saw the fallen angel, comforting Jocelyn. 

 

Cat just nodded. It was the same every time, as though her dad and his friends took all of their joy with them. She hadn’t given up yet and she wouldn’t until she could put an end it. For all of their sakes.

 

**

 

Lorenzo Rey was as good as his muttered word, leaving the three of them until last. Clary received the worst glare when he reached the centre of the crater to find the three babies waiting for him. 

 

Snapping his fingers, Lorenzo wrapped Magnus, Clary and Simon up in blankets and placed them into a lined basket, all of them calming down when they were back together again. With a wave of his hand, he floated the basket out in front of him and created a portal.

 

Lorenzo stepped out of his portal, into a Batavian Market, the basket still floating in front of him, and caught the attention of a Warlock trader. He had been planning on visiting the man anyway, to purchase some new vases for his home.

 

“Might as well kill two birds with one stone,” Lorenzo muttered to himself before pulling on a gracious smile for the man. “Stone, take these three and raise them, please,” he said, handing the basket over to the confused looking Warlock. “Don’t worry, I’m buying as well,” he said, flashing his smile once more as he began to peruse the man’s wares.

 

_ Batavia should be far enough away that I won’t have to deal with them for a while,  _ Lorenzo thought, his face lighting up when he found a pot to his liking. 

 

**

 

“You couldn’t have waited until Trueblood and Snowglade weren’t there to see it?” Jonathan muttered, staring down at the crying babies that were ignoring him in favour of squealing. With a deep sigh, he knelt down and started marking them with their angelic runes.

 

“Snowglade just reset and now she is back at the beginning, again. Why can’t the three of you just stay out of trouble?” Jonathan muttered, exasperated beyond belief. “And the Mother! She hasn’t reset in over 100 years. Until the three of you came along!” he said, wrapping them up in blankets. He wasn’t entirely sure about what happened but it had been a busy day.

 

“The three of you can come and stay in the Gard, I won’t have you setting anyone else off!” Jonathan said with a shake of his head. “At least this way, I can personally keep an eye on you,” he said, rolling his shoulders before scooping them up and turning for home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like Clary and Jace needed a chapter after the last one. They won't be the only ones to get their own chapter, some others will too but the next one will focus solely on Malec.


	6. 1760

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm struggling with this story so much! I've never been so conflicted over a story in my life. And I've never had so much writers' block. I'm so tempted to just do one massive time jump to get the misery over with but I know that it will be worth it at the end and that I owe it a proper effort. I just want them to be happy and this was a particularly difficult one to write. Sorry if it's getting a bit repetitive but that is kind of the point, it's a cycle that they need to break. But, I will change it up a little in a couple of the chapters, I promise.

**_Batavia, Dutch East Indies._ **

  
  


Magnus sat under the canopy of his stall, huddled against the rain that poured around him, wishing that monsoon season would be over already, the rain always set his aching shoulders off. The heavy rains were also driving away potential customers and he badly needed the coins that they would provide. 

 

The market was practically empty, barely a mundane in sight. Magnus let sparks play over his fingers, lost in daydreams of sailing away from the market, away from Batavia, away from his life. It wasn’t as if there was anyone there to see it. And really, the sparks were all he had.

 

Well, not all. Magnus could do some magic, more than Clary, not as much as Simon. But then, Simon could actually conjure things. Not well, he had conjured things twice and it had been hit and miss as to what would appear in Simon’s outstretched hand but one of those times he had conjured a spellbook. 

 

It was slow going but Simon had learned a couple of things and was trying to teach him and Clary. It was not going well, seeing as Simon was the only one of them that could read, also, not well. And only because one of the merchants had taught him as a child. Quaid certainly hadn’t.  _ Servants don’t need to read,  _ Magnus thought, the same words that Quaid had said many times over.

 

As he often did, Magnus wondered if other Warlocks knew more magic than them. He knew that Quaid Stone, their “guardian”, did. But if there was a more lazy, selfish and downright useless Warlock out there, none of them had ever met him or her. They hadn’t met any other Warlocks. 

 

According to Quaid, they were lucky that he had found them. Or more accurately, that they had found their way to him. Their parents had left the three of them with him when they had heard a rumour that he could do magic, dumping their freakish offspring on the beleaguered but benevolent Warlock. They could just as easily have been left on the streets. So they were lucky. Apparently.

 

In a sense, they were better off than most. They lived in a nice home on the banks of the  Tijgersgracht canal, the most affluent area of the town. They had food, even if they never exactly ate like Kings. They had clothes provided for them. Not nice ones, servants wear homespun. But they weren’t paid to look after the stalls. Quaid took all of the profits and told them continuously how lucky they were.

 

Just the thought of considering themselves lucky was laughable to Magnus. As was the thought that Quaid was a benevolent guardian who had taken them under his wing out of the goodness of his heart. They weren’t paid for their hard work and they barely had magic. If Quaid knew more magic, he had never taught it to them.

 

Glamours, some sleight of hand and one spell that could make harmless flames erupt on his hand was about all Magnus knew of magic. That and one trick, that was taught to all three of them by Quaid, that came in handy. More than came in handy, the three of them relied on it... were relying on it to get them out of the market and onto the first ship that would sell them passage. 

 

Magnus decided to put that gift to good use now, spotting a few grubby faces that peered at him from between two stalls that sat opposite his own. It wasn’t his stall, per-say, it was the stall that he ran for Quaid. Their “benevolent” guardian had at least taught the three of them how to count but only so that they could run three of his four stalls at the market in the square of the town. 

 

Retrieving a small sack from under the crate that he had been sitting on, Magnus nodded to the children, waiting until the biggest girl, Indra, broke from the small group and took up watch on his stall, before heading out into the pouring rain.

 

Magnus had two options open to him. He could turn towards the docks and risk being seen by Quaid or he could head in the opposite direction, towards the mountains, which was admittedly the quickest way to the food stall that he had in mind but was infinitely the less desirable. Even if it meant being caught by Quaid. 

 

In no mood to listen to Quaid’s rant if he was caught leaving the stall unattended, Magnus took a deep breath and turned away from the docks.

 

_ Just keep your eyes on the ground and don’t look at it,  _ Magnus silently muttered to himself, knowing that it was useless. As always, his eyes flicked up when he passed the building, unable to help himself. A full on shudder ran through him, his stomach tightening and his heart pounding when his gaze traitorously lingered. 

 

The building at the end of his row of stalls was an enigma to Magnus. One that he hated. The place had always left him feeling like this, lost and desperate, panic ridden and incredibly sad. 

 

Most of it had apparently collapsed during an earthquake sixty years ago but it was supposed to have been a huge hovel where people could rent rooms, expanded and built upon over the centuries until it was something of a metropolis. Now it was mainly a ruin but it still left him cold to look at it.

 

Quickening his pace, Magnus dragged his eyes away from the rubble and continued on his way. It didn’t take long to reach a stall that sold food. As soon as he reached it, he started loading the bag up with cured meats, hard cheeses, apples that had been brought in on the latest ship, all the while avoiding eye contact with the merchant who watched him with beady eyes. 

 

As soon as he judged that he had enough, which was lamentable, it would never be enough, Magnus grabbed a few extra apples and gripped the bag tightly before he turned away. The shout didn’t take long to come when he was barely four steps away from the tent. Neither did the slippery but surprisingly tight grip on his wrist.

 

“You didn’t pay for that!” The merchant bellowed at him, drawing the attention of other merchants nearby.

 

Magnus winced at the tight grip on his wrist, steeling himself to turn and look up at the merchant.

 

“You are mistaken, I paid you. You put the coins in your purse. You will find them there now if you look,” Magnus said, his voice soft and low, curling around the man, sinking into him. Nodding encouragingly when the man’s hand shot under his tunic and yanked an empty purse out, he did it again. “There, see, those are the coins that I gave you.”

 

“Of course, there they are. I’m sorry. Have a pleasant day.” the merchant said, looking down into his purse through glazed eyes.

 

Magnus felt a small swell of guilt when the mundane rifled through his empty purse with glazed eyes, nodding along with Magnus. In fairness, the mundane was notorious for chopping thieves hands off with the machete that hung from his belt and would have done it now if not for the magically infused suggestion of a full purse. But he still knew that it was wrong. 

 

Magnus also knew that there was little chance of the street urchins being able to steal the food themselves and that he was only able to get away with it because of the trick. The trick of persuading people with his voice. It was something that had saved his ass many times, along with Clary and Simon, his siblings. 

 

Quickening his pace when the merchant turned back to his stall, Magnus continued up the North side of the square, heading for Clary’s stall. His own stall was on Westside and Simon’s was on the Eastside, his next stop after visiting his sister.

 

A true smile lit Magnus’ face when he saw Clary. His exotic sister. Seeing that she had a customer, he hung back a little, observing her sale without appearing to. The circumstances of their birth would always be a mystery to them. While he looked like everyone else; golden skin, angular eyes, and black hair, neither Clary or Simon did. 

 

In Magnus’ opinion, Simon looked more like the Portuguese traders that occasionally sailed into port, not exactly the same but closer to them than the people of Batavia. None of them had ever seen anyone like Clary, though. With her pale skin and flaming red hair, she was as exotic as the items she sold; Persian rugs, rare maps that they had studied extensively, unable to read them but captivated nonetheless, beautiful braziers from faraway lands.

 

Which it seemed Clary was able to sell to her customer. Of course, she was, they were all able to make the sales when they all had “the gift”. Watching the man walk away, hefting the brazier with a glazed look in his eyes, Magnus slipped into the tent, wiping his dripping hair out of his face and smiling when he dug into the bag and tossed Clary an apple.

 

“How much?” Magnus asked, watching her fall on it ravenously. Taking a seat on a pile of rugs, he pulled an apple out for himself. Eating it with one hand, he let a large flame lick over the other, letting Clary huddle close to it.

 

“Three coppers,” Clary said, smiling around the huge mouthful of her apple. Showing Magnus the handful of coins she held, she separated three coppers out from the pile and stashed them in the secret pocket that she had sewn into the loose neckline of her plain homespun dress before depositing the rest in Quaid’s purse.

 

“I can’t wait until the day that we can stop stealing the mundanes coins and get out of here,” Magnus muttered, biting savagely into his apple. All three of them ripped every customer off that they could, charging more than the items were worth, using their trick, and keeping the difference. If passage on one of the ships wasn’t so expensive, they could have been on their way to China or India or any other place that wasn’t Batavia, by now.

 

“It won’t be forever. We will leave one day, sail around the world, see where they make these things for ourselves,” Clary said, kicking at another pile of rugs. They were all hoping that they would be able to find other Warlocks, maybe learn more about magic. One day was a faraway prospect, however. “Who is watching your stall?” she asked, looking at the small sack.

 

“Indra, they are all waiting. I just wanted to be sure that you got something to eat,” Magnus said before finishing his apple in companionable silence. That was one thing that he liked about Clary, she didn’t feel the need to fill their silences with inane chatter. 

 

Once he had finished, Magnus took Clary’s apple core, kissed her on the cheek, inhaling her comforting, rain-dimmed scent, and bade her farewell. Heading towards Eastside of the market, he dodged the dark alleyway that gave him the same kind of shivers that the building near his own stall did and chucked the evidence of his and Clary’s pilfered lunch to a stray dog.

 

Magnus already had an apple in hand for Simon when he reached his stall. Simon sold hot meat parcels, wine and ale. It all smelled divine but all of them knew better than to eat any of it. It wasn’t worth one of Quaid’s outbursts.  _ Well, maybe it would be, _ Magnus thought, his mouth watering at the scents that filled the air. It would be worth it; if it wasn’t Simon who would get into trouble for it.

 

“What are you doing with that here? If he catches you there will be hell to pay!” Magnus said when he found Simon, hiding under the table that the food and drink were arrayed on, attempting to read the spell book.

 

“I can’t put it down, I’m so close to working this one out,” Simon muttered, looking up from his book long enough to accept the apple that Magnus handed him. “What do you think this word means?” he asked, handing the book over to Magnus and pointing the word out that he was struggling with. 

 

Most of it was written in a foreign language, something called English, apparently, which none of them could read or speak but the things that he had learned from it were all written as translations in their own language.

 

Magnus took the book and tried to sound the word out loud. It was hard going, he wasn’t as confident with the letters as Simon was. Saying each letter carefully, he continuously looked to Simon to make sure he was correct as he read;

 

“P-i-n-t-u g-e-r-b-a-n-g”

 

“What do you think it means?” Simon asked when Magnus looked mystified. He had been able to read the word, gate, but it’s meaning was completely lost on him.

 

“It means that this is a spell for a gate?” Magnus suggested, as confused as Simon was.  _ Why would someone need a spell for a gate?  _ “What is this?” he asked, pointing another word out, above the other one. 

 

“I think that is the English version,” Simon said with a shrug, devouring his apple down to the core. He assumed that the handy translations had been written by whoever had owned the book before he had conjured it.

 

Magnus once again struggled to sound the word out;

 

“P-o-r-t-a-l”

 

“I’ve never heard of it,” Magnus shrugged. He had never even heard anyone speak English before. Patting Simon’s arm in sympathy when the Alpha growled, he handed the book back over. “Clary got three coppers out of a mundane before,” he said, smiling when Simon's face lit up.

 

“I managed to get two out of one customer and three out of another. You know, we have enough for passage, for two of us. If you and Clary leave on the next ship…” Simon began before Magnus cut him off.

 

“We’ve been through this, we all leave together or none of us at all,” Magnus said, raising his eyebrow when Simon sighed. “You wouldn’t leave us behind!” he said pointedly.

 

“I know more magic than you two,” Simon said. He felt bad when Magnus’ gaze dropped. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just… I’m really progressing with this spell, it might help. And I am better prepared if Quaid loses it. I can defend myself better, that’s all I meant.”

 

“I know, I know. It’s just so frustrating. I can feel it there under my skin, my magic. And I have no clue what to do with it,” Magnus growled. That was the worst part, he could feel how powerful he was, they all could. But being powerful and knowing how to direct that power were two different things completely.

 

“Did you manage to make anything today?” Simon asked, changing the subject, not wanting Magnus to dwell. They all did that, too often.

 

“No. This weather is keeping all of my customers away. Nobody wants to buy weapons when it’s pouring down. I am praying for the hot season to hurry up,” Magnus said, looking up over the table at the rain. “Shit, I’ve got to go, Quaid! Hide that before he sees it!” Magnus muttered when he spotted their guardian making his way through the deluge.

 

Thankful for the heavy rain that washed his scent away, Magnus snatched the apple core out of Simon’s hand and crawled to the back of the tent. Quickly lifting the material, he ducked out from the tent, ignoring the mud that coated him, only adding to his ringing wet clothes, and made a run for it when he heard voices from the other side of the material.

 

Magnus kept looking over his shoulder as he darted past the backs of the stalls on the edge of the canal that surrounded the market, hoping against all hope that Quaid hadn’t gone to his stall and found Indra there instead. Gripping the bag of food tightly, under his homespun jerkin, he made his way back to his stall.

 

**

 

**_Hong Kong_ **

 

Alec stepped out of his portal and dropped his pack to greet Aline Penhallow with a hug and a grin. “We’ve missed you in Idris, you should come to visit us more often, stay a while,” he said, pulling back to look her over. Aline was short with shining black hair and pretty angular brown eyes set above high cheekbones, he had missed her. She looked exhausted.

 

“And give up all of this? Never!” Aline said, hiking a thumb over her shoulder at the Hong Kong Institute, laughing when Alec rolled his eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Alec, even if you are here to spy on me,” she said sternly.

“Of course I’m not. I’m here to… observe… okay, I’m here to spy on you,” Alec chuckled, seeing Aline’s raised eyebrow. He wouldn’t have quite put it like that but it was technically true.

 

“Come on, let’s get you settled in,” Aline said, turning to lead Alec through the wards and into the building, an old temple that had been converted for purpose. 

 

Alec picked his pack up and followed Aline inside, glancing around at the beautiful building, nothing like the Gard. The old fortress that he had grown up in was plain and miserable. This place was vibrant and beautiful, the walls covered in beautiful artwork. It was just as lovely as his sister had said it was.

 

“Where are Jace and Izzy?” Aline asked as she led Alec through her Institute to the room that she had set up for him.

 

“Jace just left for Paris and Izzy is at the Gard. Her last assignment was London but we’ve been together for the last few months,” Alec said, surveying the beautiful artwork and architecture. Luckily, they only had to spend time apart when one of them had been assigned a mission to one of the Institutes, none of them could bear more than a week apart from each other.

 

Nodding to the occasional Shadowhunter as he followed her, Alec deemed it fit when she showed him into the large room that she had set aside with a low bed and more of the pretty artwork.

 

“So, how do the other Institutes compare to this place?” Aline asked, curious about what the other Institutes around the world were like. She had grown up in Hong Kong and had taken over the Institute a couple of years previously when the old Head had mysteriously disappeared. The only Institutes that she had seen had been her own and the Gard.

 

“None of them is as beautiful,” Alec said truthfully, dropping his pack onto the bed. It was his, Izzy’s and Jace’s jobs to liaise with the Heads of Institutes all over the world, travelling from Institute to Institute and ensure that they were being run properly. He had seen the inside of almost all of the Institutes but this was by far the nicest.

 

“You can unpack later, I have a surprise for you,” Aline said with a wink. Grabbing Alec’s hand, she laughed when he rolled his eyes but followed. “It’s a good surprise,” she said. It had been a while since she had been to Alicante, having stayed there for a year when she had turned eighteen but she had struck up a firm friendship with Alec and his siblings and it had been far too long since she had been on the receiving end of one of his eye rolls.

 

“I don’t trust you when you grin like that,” Alec said, dutifully following her down another hallway and into what he assumed was her office. He stopped short when he saw who was sitting behind her desk, the head of the Mumbai Institute. “Annalise Knightborn,” he said, his eyes narrowing at the woman, taking in her bright blue eyes and light brown hair, her feet up on the desk. 

 

“Alexander Lightwood,” Annalise said cooly when she fixed her gaze on him, her grim expression lasting all of three seconds before her face cracked. “Slumming it with us mere Institute Heads?” she chuckled, pulling her feet off of Aline’s desk to greet Alec properly.

 

“Someone has to keep you all in line,” Alec grinned, sweeping his friend up into a hug when she reached him and spitting out a mouthful of her wild hair for his troubles. “Is that the best you’ve got, Anna? Izzy could hit harder than that when she was five,” he laughed when she punched him in the stomach. Anna looked just as tired as Aline did, just as tired as he was.

 

“She has to hit hard to crack yours and Jace’s thick skulls,” Anna said, grinning at the outraged expression on Alec’s face and the snort that Aline couldn’t hold back. “When are you coming back to Mumbai?” she asked, releasing Alec and pulling him over to the two guest chairs in front of Aline’s desk.

 

“You’re my next stop. As soon as I’ve finished spying on Aline. So you’d better whip that ragtag bunch that you call your Shadowhunters into shape,” Alec said, falling into the chair. “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked, scrubbing his hand tiredly over his face. He had arrived on exactly two hours of sleep. 

 

“Anna and I have been watching the Warlocks in Batavia. They have been duping mundanes out of their money,” Aline said through pursed lips. 

 

“Please, can you ask Jonathan to set up another Institute on this side of the world? We are swamped,” Anna said, thinking that if Alec asked, the request might be granted. She had begged for some relief for them. There was only hers, Aline’s and the Singapore Institute, ran by Knightblood, to watch over the Warlocks that resided in India and all of Asia. 

 

“To say that we are struggling would be an understatement. Far too many of them are slipping through the cracks,” Aline agreed, nodding her head vehemently. “We suspect these four have been getting away with this for a while but with so few Shadowhunters at our disposal, we’ve had no choice to put them at the bottom of the list,” she said. 

 

With so few resources available to them, Anna and Aline had had to band together and share duties, even with the miserable bastard that was James Knightblood. The only consolation that the three of them had was that none of the Warlocks had discovered the landmass to the south, New Holland. Although with the dutch so recently settling there, they had no doubt that it wouldn’t be long until the rest of the world followed, Warlocks included.

 

“I’ll see what I can do but we are stretched thin everywhere. There are only eighty-five of us. Including Jonathan. It is a shitshow,” Alec said, unable to promise them anything, eight of their Shadowhunters were children which only left seventy-six of them across the world to fight. Jonathan barely left Alicante except for the odd mission now and then that none of them was privy to. “As for these Batavian Warlocks, what can you tell me about them?” he asked. 

 

“There are four of them, one female, three male, all merchants at the Batavian market. The leader is a con man of epic proportions. I’ve been observing him when I can, which isn’t very often. He is an asshole. The other three seem to be his servants from what I can tell. They seemed harmless enough until Anna came by with a report a couple of hours ago,” Aline said, giving Anna the nod to report.

 

“We've had a couple of our people watching them for months, trying to catch them out but we've had no proof until today. I've been watching them this morning, one of them used magic to make a mundane buy a few items off of her stall in the market,” Anna said with a shake of her head. “They don’t use magic very often and it is subtle but I witnessed it for myself today. It is the proof we need to move on them.” 

 

“Did you make a move?” Alec asked, finding it odd that Warlocks would need to steal money.  _ Why not just conjure it?  _ He wondered. He was also wondering why they didn’t use much magic. Warlocks used magic for everything.

 

“I was there by myself without backup, purely a rec mission. I was hoping to hand it off to Aline, I don’t have a Shadowhunter to spare at the moment,” Anna said with a tight smile. She had been pulling double duty for months and was exhausted, both in her self and resources wise.

 

“I don’t have the manpower, not for four of them. The Shadowhunters you saw before have been on patrol all night,” Aline said, thinking of sending out a clave wide fire message to ask for volunteers to bring them in. She was that desperate.

 

“Three against four sounds like good enough odds to me,” Alec said, pulling his shirt up to activate his stamina rune before standing. 

 

“Now? You’ll help?” Aline asked, also climbing to her feet. It was more than she could have hoped for. Alec wasn’t really supposed to be going out on missions but she wasn’t going to refuse his help if he was offering. And he was there to see if she was competent enough to lead her Institute, what better way to show him?

 

“It will have to be two. I’m sorry but I’ve already been away from my Institute long enough,” Anna said, feeling bad. She was on the verge of collapse as it was. 

 

“It’s fine,” Alec said, waving Ana off when he saw the guilty expression on her face. “How about four against four?” he asked with a grin. Seeing Aline’s confused expression, he grabbed a couple of scraps of parchment off of her desk and scribbled out a couple of quick fire messages before sending them.

 

“What are you up to?” Anna asked, watching Alec start activating his runes before turning to see the mystified expression on Aline’s face.

 

Aline shrugged but started activating her runes anyway. She was halfway through the task when she felt the wards go off. Raising a questioning eyebrow at Alec, she activated the rest of her runes.

 

“I might have sent for backup,” Alec shrugged, feeling the wards go off a second time. It wasn’t long before first Izzy and then Jace traipsed into Aline’s office. 

 

“Who’s ass needs kicking?” Izzy asked when she reached Aline’s office. A grin spread over her face when she caught sight of Aline and Anna, sweeping them both into a hug when they mobbed her. “I’ve missed you both! So, who’s ass are we kicking?” she asked before Jace elbowed her out of the way.

 

Jace ignored the growl that Izzy aimed in his direction, wrapping his arms around Aline and Anna, two of his favourite Shadowhunters. He was more than ready for a joint mission.

 

“I’ll be sitting this one out but you four will be going after a few Warlocks in Batavia,” Anna said, grinning when the pout on Jace’s face morphed into an excited grin. “Did we drag you away from anything exciting?” she asked him.

 

“No, I was about to have a meeting with the Head of the Parisian Institute but it can wait,” Jace shrugged. This was much more exciting.

 

“I was bored shitless at the Gard. I’d much rather be out on a mission,” Izzy said. All she had had to look forward to was kicking Jonathan’s ass during training. She had left him a note and created a portal then and there. He could reprimand her when she got back.

 

“I’d say have fun but… well, it’s Warlocks. Even if they aren’t all that powerful,” Anna said, giving everyone a hug before heading out. She wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and try for some sleep.

 

“Shall we?” Aline asked when everyone had activated their runes. Receiving their nods of agreement, she led the way out of her office and through the Institute, snagging a Shadowhunter along the way to leave him in charge.

 

Alec created a portal with his stele once they were all outside the wards that protected the Institute. Pushing it out with his hand, he led them through it. Straight into a tropical thunderstorm.

 

“How do people live in this?” Jace asked when he stepped out of Alec’s portal. The air was thick and warm, like soup, and the rain soaked him to the bone instantly. They had arrived on the docks of a port, surrounded by taverns and other business’, all of them smelly, making him suspect more than a few of them were slaughterhouses or tanneries. Even the rain didn’t have a chance of washing this smell away, and the rain was torrential.

 

“Monsoon season is the price you pay for living somewhere so beautiful,” Aline said, already flicking her dripping wet hair out of her face. Twisting it up in a knot, watching Izzy do the same, she secured it with a spare Seraph dagger and pulled the others behind a tavern.

 

“They own four stalls between them,” Aline said when they gathered around. “A weapons stall on Westside, a stall that sells rare items on Northside, one that sells hot food on Eastside, and one that sells antiques on Southside. The leader runs the Southside stall and is far more powerful than the other three who we think are his servants. The market is surrounded by a series of canals with the occasional bridge being the only escape routs.”

 

“Why would they need to use bridges? They will portal out as soon as they see us,” Izzy said, her brow furrowed with confusion, a matching expression on Jace’s face.

 

“We believe only the leader knows how to portal. He is the only one we’ve ever seen use one. The other three seem to either be weaker than him or they just don’t know how. They walk everywhere. The leader is much more accomplished. I once watched him pick his nose with magic, he uses it for everything,” Aline said, her disgust mirrored on all of their faces.

 

“Why don’t we start on Westside, since it’s the closest?” Alec asked, checking that his weapons were secured. The last thing that he needed in this weather was to have to scramble for weapons. He let Aline lead the way when she agreed, sloshing after her through the mud.

 

Aline gestured to the tent when they reached the stall, a short way from the docks. Giving the others a nod, she stepped around the curtain and into the tent, swiftly followed by the others, everyone with their hands on various pommels and handles of weapons. She frowned when she found a teenage girl instead of one of the Warlocks.

 

“Is this the female one?” Jace asked under his breath. She looked a bit young to him but looks could be deceiving.

 

“No, she’s mundane,” Aline said in a whisper before raising her voice and switching to the local dialect. “These  _ Shamshir  _ are beautiful, do they come in a matching set?” she asked the girl, admiring one of the swords while Alec and Izzy scoped out the back of the tent.

 

“I don’t know. This isn’t my stall, I am looking after it for a friend,” Indra said, watching the short woman and the yellow-haired man inspect the swords that were on display.

 

“Aske her if she knows when her friend will be back?” Alec asked Aline, picking up a crossbow while Izzy poked about. “Tell her I appreciate good craftsmanship. These crossbows are obviously good quality. I’ve been looking to add to my collection,” he added when the young girl narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. It was true, they were gorgeous, the balance and weight perfect.

 

“Soon, he just went to pick up some food. He will be able to help you all if you stick around. He knows a lot about them,” Indra said to the short one who spoke her language when she asked, hoping that they would stick around. Magnus needed the sale and she wanted to help him out for everything he did for her and her kids. 

 

“We will return shortly then, thank you,” Aline said, returning the Katana that she had picked up, gesturing to the others to follow.

 

“Wait, he shouldn’t be too much longer, really,” Indra said desperately. She might not own a stall but she knew what it meant when people promised to return. They usually didn’t. “You can wait here where it is dry,” she said.

 

“The weapons are beautiful. We really will return,” Izzy said, patting the girl’s shoulder in reassurance when Aline translated. Unable to help herself, she gathered the girl into her arms and pressed her lips to the girl’s forehead, pushed into the action by something that she didn’t understand. The girl seemed to be one of those lost children who had to scrape through life, fighting tooth and nail to survive, if the watching children across the way were anything to go by.

 

Indra stiffened in the woman’s arms for a moment before a peacefulness that she had never felt before radiated through her. She might have fallen a little bit in love with the woman right then, unable to help but stare at the woman when she let go.

 

“It will be better one day,” Izzy said, cupping the girl’s face before turning to follow her brother and Aline from the tent. “What?” she asked when Alec and Aline stared at her. Jace was too busy slipping a few silvers into the girls pocket to pay any attention.

 

“What was that?” Aline asked, her eyebrows rising even further when she saw Jace emptying his purse into the dazed-looking mundane girl’s pockets.

 

“It doesn’t hurt to offer someone a kind word when they are suffering, no matter what language you speak,” Izzy shrugged, Jace agreeing wholeheartedly when he joined them outside the tent.

 

“Okay...” Aline said, shrugging it off to hand orders out. “I was expecting one of the Warlocks to be here. Alec, stay here and wait for him, the rest of us can make our way to Southside. This isn’t one of the powerful ones, will you be able to handle him alone?” she asked Alec as they started heading toward the Southside.

 

“Sure, send a fire message if you need help,” Alec said, nodding to his siblings and Aline before ducking between two tents a little way down the street where he had a good vantage point. Unslinging his bow, he nocked an arrow, ready for the Warlock if he needed it, letting the others go.

 

Alec watched the girl who sat in the entrance of the tent, smiling when she realised that she had coins in her pocket. The girl made a gesture with her hand before a little boy dashed across the street and took them from her, the boy then dashing back to the safety of his friends. They all looked small and thin, he hoped that the Warlock at least intended to share the food with the children.

 

A fire message caught Alec’s attention, floating in front of his face. Snatching the soggy parchment out of the air, he read;

 

**_Southside stall was empty too._ **

**_I’m waiting for the leader,_ **

**_Jace and Izzy proceeding to North and Eastside._ **

**_Aline._ **

 

Alec stashed the note in his pocket before returning to his watch. His patience was rewarded when a hunched, soggy figure dashed down Westside, clutching something under his plain clothes. Something about the figure caught and held his attention. Rather than doing anything in front of the mundane, he decided to hold back, watching the pair. 

 

Alec wished that the man would turn around, to get a good look at his face but all he could see was the man’s back. Cursing the rain, he watched and waited, trying to shake off the feeling of recognition that coursed through him. Which was ridiculous. How would he even know the Warlock?

 

**

 

“Did anyone come by while I was away?” Magnus asked Indra when he reached his tent and ducked inside. The girl was around fourteen summers if he wasn’t mistaken and the elected leader/foster mother of the urchins that lived at the market. Everyone fed them when they could but Magnus always managed to get them the most food with his trick.

 

“Yes,” Indra said, taking the bag gratefully and rushing to reassure Magnus when his face paled. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t that useless sack of goat shit. There were two men and two women. They were… nice,” she said in an understatement, thinking of the beautiful woman who had soothed her. The others, her kids, had been watching for Magnus’ return and they were all pretty hungry so she stood up to leave.

 

“Did they buy anything?” Magnus asked hopefully. If the visitors hadn’t bought anything, they could come back. Which would mean another chance to make some extra coppers. 

 

“No, I told them to come back later when the owner was back. They were all pretty impressed with the weapons though. The pale man and the short woman were practically drooling over the pair of  _ Shamshir  _ on display. And I thought the tall one was going to soil his breeches over the collection of crossbows,” Indra giggled. “The other woman was beautiful.”

 

Magnus was busy inspecting the stock, ensuring that none of the strangers had stolen anything. The words “pale man” didn’t even register. He sold;  _ Katana’s, Kilij, Kukri, Crossbows, Yatagan, Cutlass,  _ even a set of handcrafted Malaysian  _ Kris Swords  _ with Ivory handles. Those gave him a cold feeling whenever he looked at them but they would go for a fortune if he could sell them _.  _ Everything seemed to be there.

 

Indra was already making plans for the coins that she had found in her pocket, the two smallest children needed new shoes and their supply of fresh drinking water was running low. The coins would help though. She didn’t question where they had come from as she headed back to the five children waiting for her, quickly getting soaked in the rain once more when Magnus called out again. 

 

“What did they look like, in case they come back?” Magnus asked, hoping that they would and that he would get a sale out of them. If there were four of them and if they had been as enamoured as Indra said, that could mean more than a few extra coppers. 

 

“They were beautiful, all of them. One of the women, the short one, looked kind of like us but the rest of them were from somewhere far away. A tall man with dark hair, a shorter man with yellow hair and a kind woman with long dark hair. She wore men's clothes!” Indra said, gesturing to her own leggings. A girl had to take what she could get but the woman had obviously chosen to wear the leather leggings.

 

Magnus decided it wouldn’t hurt to polish the weapons when Indra crossed the street and disappeared between the two tents opposite his. Indra, poking her head back out and yelling had him whipping around, the  _ Katana _ that he had taken down, clanging to the floor.

 

“Oh, and they were from some tribe, they all had inked markings on their arms and necks,” Indra called before getting dragged away by her kids.

 

Magnus let his panic consume him for a moment.  _ The Hunters are here, they have finally come for us,  _ he thought, his head whipping around to look for them. When they had been children, Quaid used to scare them into being good with stories about hunters who came for Warlocks, hunters with ink markings all over them. 

 

None of them had ever seen them, supposing that the Hunters were just myths to scare naughty children. But the story went that they came for Warlocks, especially when they did bad things. Things like stealing from mundanes. Worry, that Quaid had found out about their stolen coins and sent the Hunters, rushed through Magnus. 

 

Without further thought, Magnus snatched up a  _ Katana  _ and a  _ Shamshir _ and ran for it, his only goal was to get to Clary and Simon, and for them to run. Dashing out into the rain, he ran like his brother and sister’s lives depended on it, tearing up Westside to get to them. 

 

The panic that crashed through Magnus trebled when a splash behind him had him looking over his shoulder. One of them was coming for him. The sight of a tall man, dressed all in black, had him putting a burst of speed on, his chest straining for air through his fear and panic and the speed he was running at.

 

Alec gave chase the moment the Warlock started running. He had been waiting for the mundane to go so that he could slip in quietly and hopefully overpower the Warlock with minimum fuss. Now he was running. The Warlock was fast! And he had two swords.  _ Fuck!   _ Knowing that he had to catch up, he put his own burst of speed on.

 

Magnus was just rounding the corner onto Northside when he saw another of the Hunters up ahead, a pale blonde man heading towards Clary’s stall. Knowing that he had no hope of helping Clary if he got caught between two of them, he spun on the spot, hoping to lose his own Hunter and double back to help Clary.

 

Trying not to think about where he was going, Magnus darted for the only remaining archway of the demolished building on the corner of the intersecting streets, picking his way through the rubble as quickly as possible. A shudder ran through him when he dashed inside, his chest tightening from being inside the building far more effectively than from seeing the Hunter. 

 

Alec signalled Jace to continue his own pursuit when he saw his brother turn towards him. He slowed down, creeping through the rubble once the Warlock entered the abandoned, wrecked building on the corner of Westside and North. Keeping his bow raised, he peered into the gloom, picking his steps carefully and cursing the rain. He couldn’t get a scent and it was too dark to see further than a few paces, even with his heightened vision. 

 

Kneeling low to the ground, Alec inspected the dusty ground, grinning when he saw a set of soggy footprints and drip splatters in the dust. Deciding to forgo a witchlight, which would give his position away, he kept low to the ground and followed the tracks deeper into the building.

 

Magnus did his best to fight the panic that was trying to consume him. The building stole his breath, his stomach clenching tightly as he searched through the gloom for somewhere to hide. The worst of the situation was, he didn’t have a clue how to actually use the swords that he had hastily grabbed. Swords were for rich people and fighters, he was neither. 

 

Magnus’ head began to pound as he crept over the rubble into an open space where the roof had caved in, trying desperately to slow his breathing down and keep quiet. It was hard when he felt like a trapped animal, the feeling only intensifying, the deeper into the building he went. A large pillar, looming up in front of him, had hope fighting through the panic. If he could hide behind it, the hunter might creep past. Then he could double back. 

 

Alec continued to try and get a scent as he crept forward. All he got was a nose full of dust. It had a growl building in his chest, one that he clawed back in case the Warlock heard it. He was tempted to call out and ask why the Warlock had run, why he wasn’t dodging fireballs right now but he moved silently forward until he reached an open space.

 

The growl did burst from Alec then when he realised that the Warlock’s tracks had disappeared. The ground was soaked from a hole in the roof of the building and the footprints had led right up to the muddy patch, the rain and dust swirling together. Skirting the wet patch, he started to search the surrounding ground, looking for more tracks.

 

Magnus hunkered down, fighting the whine that was building in his throat from the images that had started flashing through his head. The same building, whole, filthy, not from dust but from too many people crammed into the building. The images had him clutching at his head as more came. A woman, smiling down at him. Why was he so small compared to her? 

 

Magnus watched the woman’s smile widen as she whispered words to him, holding him safely, tight against her chest,  _ “ _ _ Aku mencintaimu, anakku yang manis. Aku mencintaimu, lebih dari apa pun di dunia. Aku cinta kamu.”  _

 

_ She loved me! _

 

“Ibu, tolong jangan tinggalkan aku?” Magnus choked out, his swords clanging to the ground as he clutched his head harder, wishing she could come back. The whine that had been building ripped out of him with a sob, more images appearing in his head. Coming back from the market, she wouldn’t wake up. A hand grabbing his shirt and throwing him out into the street. A deep hunger as he watched a man so he could steal food. 

 

Alec dropped his bow when he heard the noise that had come from across the open space. The sound ripped at the most basic part of him, a place that he hadn’t even been aware existed. Without a second thought, he was across the room in an instant, not stalking the Warlock, but desperately trying to get to him. It felt like the sound was shredding his soul. Dropping to his knees when he rounded the pillar, he scooped the man up into his arms.

 

“I’ve got you,” Alec whispered, staring down at the man who stared up at him, unseeing behind glazed brown eyes. “Come back,” he said, holding the shaking man tighter, drawing his head into his neck. “Come back,” he repeated, over and over again to the beautiful man. He would have sold his soul to stop the man ever making that sound again. 

 

Pure instinct had Alec’s fingers running through the man’s dripping hair, rocking him gently. What else could he do? The need to comfort the man was so instinctual that he didn’t even question it. Unaware of the action, he pressed his lips into the man’s dripping hair, desperate to offer any comfort that he could.

 

Magnus shuddered against the wet skin that he pressed his face into, a shaky sob escaping him. He clung to the man desperately, wishing that he could stay buried in his arms forever, wishing that he could understand the words that the man was speaking. They soothed him, even if they came in a language that he couldn’t understand. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, letting the faint scent sink into him, he let the tears fall, feeling as safe as the woman made him feel.

 

Different images started coming to Magnus as the scent worked its way through him, getting stronger by the minute. Laughing with the man who held him. Sharing a meal, sharing a knowing look, sharing a bed. The man bringing a small child to him, dancing with the girl, telling her stories, both of them holding her when she cried. Soothing the girl, being soothed by the man. Strong arms, wrapping around him, whispered words that he found he did understand, speaking of love and strength, telling him of his worth.

 

Alec also watched image after image flash through his head, other times when he had held the man in his arms, other times when he had whispered soothing words, other times when his heart had broken because he desperately wanted to show the man how much he was loved.

 

Alec looked down when the man pulled back slightly to stare up at him with glowing golden eyes, the most beautiful eyes that he had ever seen. Recognition flooded him when he saw them, the eyes that he loved more than anything in the world. They felt like more of a home than the Gard ever had.  _ Magnus, my mate. _

 

“Magnus, what’s happening?” Alec asked, the words a whisper. He cupped Magnus’ jaw, sweeping his thumb over his mate’s cheekbone, under no doubt that that was who the Warlock was to him. “Where did you go?” he asked.

 

“Ibu… M-Mother,” Magnus said, testing the word out. It felt strange on his tongue, a word in another language from the only one he had ever known. Except, he realised as a few more images flashed behind his eyes, that he really did know that language, had spoken it many times before. His eyes flicked around the wrecked room that they were huddled in before landing on his mate again, his beautiful face, so close to his own. “Alexander?” 

 

“Mother?” Alec asked, looking around when Magnus did it again, a distraught, pain filled expression on his mate’s face as his golden eyes darted around. One image rose up above the rest, Magnus sobbing in his arms, talking of his mother. And another time, when Magnus had told him about his childhood home and what had happened there. Understanding washed through him then, this place was that home.

 

“dia ... mencintai ... aku,” Magnus whispered, clutching Alec’s hand, leaning into his touch when his mate’s thumb brushed his tears away. “Sh… she Lo-loved me?” he stuttered out, the words still confusing but feeling more and more right on his tongue as more images appeared, more memories, he realised.

 

“Of course she loved you. She was your mother and you were her son. She loved you, Magnus. Just as I love you,” Alec said, nuzzling into Magnus' cheek. He pressed a kiss to Magnus’ cheek, inhaling his scent. “She loved you,” he whispered, saying the words over and over again.

 

Magnus closed his eyes and let the nicer memories wash over him, his hand sliding up into Alec’s hair to hold him close. His Alpha being so close by and the perfect scent that was sinking into him was a comfort beyond anything he could ask for, the words sinking in and keeping him afloat now that he understood them. 

 

“I love you, Magnus, whether you remember or not. I love you, more than my own life,” Alec whispered, nosing Magnus’ face up to press lingering kisses to Magnus’ lips. The hard response brought up memories of other kisses, soft and slow, hard, passionate kisses. He wished that he could gather all of those kisses and keep them with him.

 

“I love you too, Alexander,” Magnus murmured between kisses, his fingers tightening when he opened his eyes and saw the bright glow of his mate. “I will always love you. My mind might forget for a little while but my heart and soul will know,” he whispered, leaning up the last half inch to catch Alec’s lips again.

 

“Just as my soul will always recognise you, even if my mind is too slow to catch up,” Alec said, sinking into Magnus’ embrace when his mate’s arms tightened around him. The tentative brush over his shoulders had other images coming, memories of other soft touches like that. Explorative, feather soft touches on his wing scars, gentle tugs on his wings.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” Alec said quietly against his mate’s lips when he felt it come on. With one last kiss, his lips brushing Magnus’ forehead, the cold darkness consumed him.

 

Magnus let out a shuddering, jerky breath when the fire took him, a short sob barking out of him when he landed in his father’s throne room. 

 

Taking a moment to breathe, Magnus gathered himself before rising to his feet, looking around for his father. His absent father. Simon, thudding into the ground caught his attention, swiftly followed by Clary.

 

“Izzy?” Simon asked, glancing around before he realised what had happened, his stomach sinking when he saw that he was in Asmodeus’ throne room. 

 

“When will this damned curse ever end?” Clary muttered furiously, scrambling to her feet with a snarl. She was seriously ready to rip Asmodeus a new one.

 

Magnus didn’t say a word, he didn’t have any to offer. All he could do was silently blink back his tears as memories of their most recent life flooded him. Turning from the empty throne room, he went in search of his daughter, too lost in his own thoughts to wait for them.

 

Clary exchanged a look with Simon, seeing the resignation on his face. She reached out and threaded her fingers through his, watching Magnus go before Simon tugged her after their friend.

 

“Do you think he is okay?” Simon whispered to Clary, watching the slump of Magnus’ shoulders as Magnus walked through the palace. 

 

“I don’t know. I don’t know how much longer he can keep going through this,” Clary replied, unsure of how much longer any of them could. Waving her hand, she dressed her and Simon in a fresh set of dry leathers each as they walked, silently thanking whoever would listen that she had full access to her memories again.

 

Simon snapped his fingers, relief flooding him that he was able to complete the spell with ease, and dressed Magnus in a similar outfit. He was still smarting that they had gone an entire lifetime without it.

 

Magnus only realised how empty the palace was when he reached his old rooms to find them empty with not even a faded scent to linger after his daughter. After checking every room in silence, ignoring the lingering looks from his friends, he opened a portal and took Clary’s spare hand to pull them through it.

 

“Magnus, are you okay?” Clary asked, reaching out for Magnus’ shoulder when they stepped out of the portal outside Elaine’s house and Magnus dropped her hand.

 

“I’m fine, biscuit,” Magnus clipped out, just about holding himself together. Letting himself into Elaine’s house, he didn’t notice the silent conversation that Simon and Clary were having. Instead, he looked around for Cat when he walked into Elaine’s living room, spotting Elaine but coming up short when his daughter was nowhere to be found.

 

“Magnus, Simon, Clary!” Elaine breathed when she saw her son and his friends in her living room doorway. Forgetting all about the clothes that she was packing, she launched herself across the room and fell upon the trio, pulling them all into a tight hug.

 

“Mother, I’ve missed you,” Simon said when she kissed his cheeks, enduring the squashed hug with good grace. “Why is the palace so empty?” he asked.

 

Elaine pulled back when Simon asked her the question, rather breathlessly. A sad smile quirked her lips up when she saw the same question on Magnus’ face.

 

“Asmodeus took Cat on a tour of the realms,” Elaine said, wishing that they had been reset a couple of weeks earlier so that they could have gotten some time together. “She tried to put it off but he insisted, saying that it was her duty as his heir. She kicked up a fuss when he wouldn’t let it go but he threatened to kick her out of the realm if she didn’t start pulling her weight.”

 

“When?” Magnus asked in a monotone, the lump in his throat hardening.

 

“Two weeks ago. She is using it as a chance to search for answers,” Elaine said, reaching out when Magnus deflated. She tried to pat his shoulder but he pulled away, his hands up, a worryingly blank expression on his face. 

 

“You know that they tour each realm for at least a month so I was packing to go and stay with your sister for a while,” Elaine said to Simon, silently asking after Magnus when Magnus wandered away from them and collapsed onto her couch with his head in his hands, Clary wandering after him. 

 

Simon took a seat in his favourite armchair, his eyes lingering on Magnus until his mother asked him about their life and asked after his mate. He explained a little bit about what their lives were like, leaving out the part about them being Quaid Stone’s servants, she already looked horrified enough at the thought of no magic, before letting his mother know that he had found Izzy. Or more accurately, that she had found him.

 

“Our guardian spotted the Shadowhunters when they had entered Magnus’ tent, on his way to check on Magnus sales, so he came back around Southside to warn me and Clary to get going, that the hunters were coming. I think he still thought that we could all get away. He didn’t bank on them coming to mine or Clary’s stalls though. The next thing I knew, Quaid disappeared through a portal and left me to it when he spotted Izzy. I knew that snake knew more magic!

 

“Anyway, I didn’t even have time to try and find a weapon before Izzy was on me. She was beautiful, soaked through but so beautiful. It took me a minute to recognise who she was to me, I couldn’t get a read on her scent. But we got to spend some time together at least,” Simon said, remembering how she had shaken in his arms, sobbing her eyes out when she had realised who he was. And then, she had been gone. 

 

“I didn’t even see Jace’s runes at first. I tried to flog him some dusty old rugs before he stepped into the light properly. I almost fell on my ass when I saw his face. I fell in love with him all over again in an instant,” Clary said, holding onto the memory of practically throwing herself at Jace the second that the first memory had surfaced.

 

The memory of the first time Jace had made love to her had propelled Clary forward, unthinking of anything but getting to her mate. It would have made her blush to remember it in front of Simon, Magnus and Elaine but honestly, she couldn’t give a fuck. She had missed Jace, missed him touching her more than she could put into words. 

 

“What about you, Magnus? Did you find Alec?” Clary asked, watching her friend scrub his hands through his hair. 

 

“Yes, he found me,” Magnus said quietly, staring down at the floor before pulling his head up to look around. He didn’t want to see the concern on their faces, knowing that they would turn to looks of pity.

 

“I found out why I hated that building on the corner of Westside,” Magnus said, lifting his head like it was the heaviest weight in the realm. It felt like it was. “That was the building that my mother and I lived in before she… before Asmodeus brought me here. I hated that building, I could barely look at it. And now I know why,” he said.

 

Elaine crossed the room from where she had been perched on the arm of Simon’s chair and knelt in front of Magnus. It was rare for him to open up about his mother but she knew the story. 

 

“It all came back to me, all of it,” Magnus said, letting Elaine wrap her arms around him like she had done now and then when he had been a boy, new to Edom with only his father to talk to. Asmodeus never talked to him about his mother.

 

The words that his mother had said to him, centuries before, floated back to Magnus once more, words that he had forgotten.  _ “I love you, my sweet child. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you.  _ But it hadn’t been enough. And now, he just felt hollow.

 

For the first time since this sorry mess had started, Magnus wanted to be reset. He wanted to forget this life as soon as he could. Sure, their lives weren’t always great in the mortal realm. They had shitty dreams that kept them awake at night, dreams that they couldn’t even remember. They had the constant headaches whenever they tried to remember and the constant ache of their missing wings. 

 

But they also lived in ignorance, unaware of the fact that they were being punished at all. Unaware that they even had mates at all. For the first time, Magnus was thankful for the fact that he didn’t know that Alec existed most of the time. Because just the thought of this constant ache in his gut being something that he had to live through all of the time brought a shudder to his spine.  _ Ignorance is bliss compared to this. _

 

Magnus could live with the loneliness, it was something that he got used to every lifetime. It was the emptiness when his love was taken away from him, time and time again, that he couldn’t deal with.  _ Maybe finding the other halves of ourselves, just to have them taken away is our real punishment, _ he couldn’t help wondering.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who doesn't know, Batavia is the name that was given to Jakarta during this time period. It didn't become Jakarta until much later. Also, The Dutch East Indies was the name of Indonesia at the time and New Holland was the name given to Australia when the Dutch colonised both countries. It became Australia after the English colonised in the 1780s.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mile Stone fic for me. With this first chapter, I've officially posted my millionth word! Thank you all for being a part of my writing journey over the last year, its been phenomenal! Here's to Many more 🎉🎊🥂🥂🥂


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